


Turnabout in Gravity Falls

by Lemonsmoothie



Category: Gravity Falls, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 16:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 55,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19232494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemonsmoothie/pseuds/Lemonsmoothie
Summary: When Phoenix Wright, his daughter Trucy, and junior partner Athena Cykes go on a road trip to Olympia, they find themselves in a little town called Gravity Falls. Phoenix finds himself defending the barely-turned-thirteen year old Dipper Pines for the murder of Toby Determined, local reporter. Suspects are many and weirdness is at an all-time high.Light Dipcifica, some Durland/Blubs.





	1. A little town called Gravity Falls

"Turnabout in Gravity Falls"

Ace Attorney is copyright Capcom. Gravity Falls belongs to Alex Hirsch and Disney. No profit motive is intended.

XXX

Being a lawyer. A cushy job with an even cushier salary. The only complaint you could have as a lawyer is the carpal tunnel from all the needless paperwork.

…Unless you're me.

My name is Phoenix Wright.

The redhead driving this motorboat is Wendy Corduroy. That other redhead with the ribbon in her hair is my junior partner, Athena Cykes. And the brunette is my daughter, Trucy.

"Watch out for that –" I cried out as the boat smashed through a sign reading Gravity Falls.

"Hey!" An irate voice yelled out. "I just replaced that sign!"

Why am I stuck on a motorboat?

It's a long story.

XXX

Right after Ellen and Sorin Sprocket's wedding, Athena and I prepared to go to the Legal League's annual convention. It was being held in Olympia, Washington.

Trucy needed to come with us. When I left her with Apollo, she got accused of murder. He got her acquitted, but still…

Yeah, Apollo. You were wise to run to Khura'in, where I can't get you.

We decided it would be fun to rent a car and drive to Olympia, then fly back. Athena and Trucy took turns driving. Trucy just got her license. The journey was relaxing and uneventful.

"This is weird." Trucy was riding shotgun, navigating, while Athena was driving.

"You're going to be more specific, dear," I called from the backseat.

"The town we just entered? It's called Gravity Falls, but the name is in parenthesis on the map. And there's a little note under the name. 'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.'"

"It's obviously the cartographer's lame idea of a joke," Athena said, not taking her eyes off the road. "I mean, I'd be worried if it were foggy, or if the town's name was Silent Hill."

Trucy turned up the radio.

"Police are still on the lookout for the escapee from the local insane asylum," a DJ intoned from the radio. "Details about the inmate have not been released, but he is believed to still be in the area…"

"Now I'm creeped out," I said.

"Seriously, Schmebulock," another voice came. "How is this going to get us a new queen?"

"Shut up, Jeff! You know I'm the most articulate…"

"Only when you're on the radio. When you're not, you're a broken record…" Jeff retorted.

"You're ruining my broadcast!" The DJ named Schmebulock snapped. Which is an odd stage name, come to think of it.

Trucy clicked off the radio.

"Let's just get out of here," I said. "I don't think we should tempt fate, with that odd warning on the map and the insane asylum escapee…"

"Says the guy who ran across a burning bridge and was surprised it collapsed," Trucy said.

Athena's stomach growled. "Can we eat first?"

"I'm getting hungry too, Daddy," Trucy whined.

"Fine," I said. "We'll eat, then get the heck out of here." There didn't appear to be any fast food joints, but there was a café up ahead. The building was shaped like a log, and the sign read Greasy's.

Well, it looked well-lit at least. The biggest danger was the heart stopping menu. Athena pulled into the parking lot, and the three of us walked inside.

The hostess, whose left eyelid was rather droopy, seated us across from a family of three. The two kids were racing to see whose syrup dripped onto their pancakes first. The girl had her fluffy brown hair held back with a rainbow headband with little puffy cloud ornaments at the ends. She was also wearing a heavy purple sweater with neon hearts all over it. The boy had on a brown trapper hat over his hair and wore an orange shirt and navy vest. A portly man wearing a suit with burgundy spaghetti tie and a small cap sat with them.

"They look so happy," Trucy said. "I wish I had a brother."

OK, maybe she doesn't know Apollo's her real half-brother, but shouldn't she be grateful? He did get her off on murder charges. Not to mention he puts up with the myriad torture methods she uses on her assistants. Athena still wakes up screaming sometimes.

And if something happens to Athena, Simon Blackquill's going to take it out on my hide. He guards her like a bulldog. And I still have the scars where his stupid hawk scratched me.

The door opened again, revealing a gray haired sheriff wearing a khaki hat, a green uniform and dark sunglasses. His partner, a scrawny guy with a unibrow that'd make Bert jealous, followed close behind.

I heard a feminine gulp. The girl across from us lifted her menu and hid behind it.

The sheriff walked to their table.

The girl put down her menu, cleared her throat, only for the sheriff to grab the boy's left arm and cuff it.

"Dipper Pines," the sheriff began. "You're under arrest for the murder of Toby Determined."

"What are you talking about?" Dipper asked.

"Toby Determined is dead?!" The man seated with the kids asked.

"I…" Dipper put down his arm. The cuffs fell to the floor, too wide to contain his thin wrist.

"Dang," The sheriff said. "Don't they teach you how to build muscle tone in the big city? And those are the kid-size cuffs!"

"I'm very sensitive about my thin wrists," Dipper said. "And I didn't kill anyone!"

Athena was already standing up.

I stood up. "Excuse me."

"Move along, nothing to see here!" The deputy said.

I showed him my badge. "I'm a defense attorney,"

"You want to be his lawyer?" The sheriff asked me in a dubious tone.

"Yes," I said. I was on my way to a convention, but what kind of lawyer would I be if I just left this kid in need? This is a tiny town. He probably doesn't have many options.

The sheriff nodded. "Very well, Mr…"

"Phoenix Wright," I said. "And you are?"

"Sheriff Blubs," he said simply. "This is Deputy Durland. He'll take you to fill out the paperwork."

Ugh. Paperwork. Even a tiny township has bureaucracy. I nodded.

"And Mr. Wright?" Blubs said.

"Yes?" I asked.

He whispered the last thing. "You and I both know this boy is innocent."

"Then why?" I asked.

"My hands were tied," Blubs whispered back. He said the next thing louder. "Now go. I'll handle the booking."

Athena took us to the police station, following the squad car carrying Dipper, Sheriff Blubs, and Durland. Durland led us to an office and handed us paperwork to fill out. I filled out the defense request. "I need to have Dipper's guardian sign this."

Durland shrugged. "I tried to contact their parents, but their mother hung up on me."

"Why should she do that?" Athena asked.

"I dunno," Durland said. "She said hello, and I said I was from the Gravity Falls Sheriff's Office and she said, 'What did Mabel do this time'? And I said, 'I'm calling about the other one.'" And she just hung up on me! Leave the space blank."

I pushed the form toward him. He put it in a file folder without even looking at it.

"Don't you want to see if it's in order?" I asked.

"Um…" Durland shifted uncomfortably. "Can't read good. Or at all."

Athena and I looked at each other.

Trucy didn't seem bothered by Durland's confession. "So does this happen often?"

"Murders?" Durland said. "Naw. But of course Toby Determined had to get himself offed when Blubs and I have to search the town for that kid who escaped from the insane asylum!"

"Kid?" Athena repeated.

"Oops," Durland said. "It's supposed to be top secret."

"I won't tell if you won't," Athena said.

Durland checked his watch, a plastic kid's model that was a disagreeable neon orange in color. I was surprised it even worked. "The kid should be in the interrogation room now, so I guess you can talk to him. Third door on the left. Can't get the wrong interrogation room, cause we have only one."

Trucy, Athena, and I left the office and entered the open interrogation room.

Dipper was seated in a metal chair behind a metal table. A tall pale-blonde teenager wearing a perfectly pressed gray suit with purple vest and black ascot was standing next to the table.

The door opened before we could say anything, and a pudgy young boy with powdered hair in a high pompadour, a light blue suit with an American flag pin in the lapel walked in. He held a brown leather attache case.

The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees instantly.

"Gideon Gleeful," Dipper said, only slightly less icily than the ambient temperature in the room.

"Dipper Pines," replied Gideon, almost cheerfully.

"What brings you here?" Dipper asked. "Here to laugh at my misfortune?"

"What, little ol' me?" Gideon asked, trying to look innocent. "I'm here on business. You see, when I went to prison, I was told I needed to learn a new trade. And I've just finished my correspondence law courses. I am now Gideon Gleeful, Esquire. And how lucky is this! My most hated rival is the defendant for my first murder trial!"

"You're the prosecutor?" Dipper said. "Oh…hot Belgian waffles." He shot a glare at the teenager. "Why didn't you warn me?"

The teenager shrugged. "I said you wouldn't like it."

Dipper grimaced. "You didn't say I'd feel like vomiting!"

"Well, I'd be willing to talk to District Attorney Strange on your behalf," Gideon said. "If you just give me one thing…"

"If you say Mabel, I'm going to slug you," Dipper said. "I don't care if you add an assault charge…"

"Get your mind out of the gutter," Gideon said with an eye roll. "I just want you to confess."

Dipper blinked. "A confession?"

Gideon opened his attache and took out a quill pen and some nice-looking parchment. "If you just write out your confession and sign it, we might not have to go to trial."

Dipper took the quill and quickly wrote something.

"Wait!" Athena cried.

Dipper slid the paper to Gideon.

Gideon picked up the page and cleared his throat. "I, Mason 'Dipper' Pines, confess to the following: I ate Mabel's bonbons and blamed it on Waddles, I tried to peek in on my uncle Stan in the shower hoping…" He stopped reading and scanned the paper. "I meant confess to the murder." He crumpled up the paper and tossed it behind him, where it bonked the silent teenager on the head.

"Why should I confess to something I didn't do?" Dipper retorted.

"You did it," Gideon snapped. "I have concrete proof!" He took out a tape recorder and pressed play.

"…I did it. I killed him," came from the speakers and seemed to fill the room. If it wasn't Dipper's voice, it was a very good imitation. There was even cracking at the end.

"That recording is bogus, and you know it!" Dipper said, voice cracking exactly like the audio recording. "You probably recorded my voice without my knowledge and cobbled it together."

"I don't know," Athena said suddenly. "The fear is real."

"You think this recording is real?" I asked her.

Athena shook her head. "No, I think this recording is totally fake. But whoever is speaking there is genuinely afraid."

Gideon shrugged. "You're welcome to take that copy with you. Test it at an independent lab, if you'd like. It won't change the outcome of tomorrow's trial. And Oregon is a death penalty state."

"But I'm a minor," Dipper protested.

"You're being tried as an adult," Gideon said.

"What?!" Trucy asked. "He's only a little kid!"

"I'm thirteen," Dipper retorted.

"Wait…" Trucy said. "You…you're not lying about your age?"

Dipper sighed. "I get that a lot. Gideon, you said the D.A. is named Strange. Is that Tad Strange?"

"No one else," Gideon said sweetly. "It was actually his idea to have you tried as an adult and pursue the death penalty."

"Really?" Dipper looked rather annoyed. "How ungrateful, considering we saved him."

I made a mental note to talk to this district attorney. Something's definitely off here. A rookie prosecutor? Defendant and prosecutor both minors. Gideon was even younger than Dipper if his looks were to be believed.

And the death penalty?

"I didn't catch your name," Gideon addressed me.

I extended my hand. "Phoenix Wright. This is Athena Cykes."

"They're with the Wright Anything Agency," Trucy said cheerfully.

Gideon made no move to shake my hand. "I've heard of you. Little far from home, aren't you?"

"I'll go wherever I'm needed," I said.

"To lose?" Gideon sneered. "I have more evidence than that recording. My case is airtight."

"I haven't been a lawyer very long," Athena said. "But I've learned that if evidence seems too good to be true, it probably is."

"I can see neither of you will back down," Gideon said. "Very well. This is an unexpected bonus. I'll win my first case, defeat the legendary Phoenix Wright. And I'll impress the girl I love and do it all legally!"

"How is getting me convicted going to impress my sister?" Dipper asked. "If you stick a needle in my arm, she'll hate you forever."

"Pshaw," Gideon said. "I'm sure she'll get over it after a couple of years. And this town doesn't use lethal injection to carry out the death penalty."

"What, then? Hanging?" Dipper asked.

"You'll find out soon enough," Gideon said ominously.

"Well, if you really want to impress the girl," Trucy said. "How about you just prosecute badly so my daddy can win? Then she'll love you because you spared her brother! Girls love guys who can take the high road."

"Trucy!" I said. "You just suggested to a prosecutor that he should lose on purpose! Great vote of confidence, daughter of mine!"

Trucy just gave me her impish smile. "Well, Daddy, you do win all the time, but it seems like it's very stressful for you, so…"

"Why, losing on purpose would be a breach of ethics," Gideon said.

"And prosecuting an innocent person isn't?!" Dipper said, folding his arms.

"Good thing I don't care what you think," Gideon said. "I don't know why you killed Toby, and I don't really care."

"So you have not established a motive, Mr. Gleeful?" I asked.

"If I had to guess, it was because Toby led him into an ambush," Gideon said.

"And how do you know that?" I asked.

"Because I put Toby up to it," Gideon said. "But honestly, how has Toby gone this long without being murdered?"

"That's not really an excuse," I said. "Winston Payne is still alive…"

"Whom?" Gideon asked.

Right. "Never mind," I said.

"I'm going to go rehearse for tomorrow if you'll excuse me. Colby!" Gideon signaled the teenager, who had been standing at attention near the door.

The teenager, whose name was apparently Colby, opened the door, and Gideon bowed condescendingly before walking out.

Colby shut the door behind Gideon, expression inscrutable.

"Are you like his assistant?" Trucy asked.

"In a sense," Colby responded. "I'm studying to be a lawyer and work as a bailiff. The D.A. suggested I shadow Prosecutor Gleeful."

"I'm hearing a lot of contempt toward said prosecutor," Athena said.

Colby shrugged. "That much is obvious? Ask Mr. Pines here if you want to know more about how Gideon summoned the supervillain that almost destroyed the town."

What?! I looked to Dipper.

"Don't forget the giant robot," Dipper added. "And the spy camera network."

"Of course. How could anyone forget that?" Colby said dryly.

"So got a last name to go with that cute face?" Trucy asked.

Geez, Trucy. You might be my daughter, but that's no excuse to use such terrible pick up lines. That was barely a step up from "Do you have a map? I seem to be getting lost in your eyes."

Colby gave a smirk. "Oh, do you usually flirt with adversaries? But you since you asked so nicely, my last name is Roquefort."

"Adversaries?" Athena asked. "You seem to dislike the prosecutor."

"Enemy of my enemy is my friend?" Colby said. "Sorry, but it is not that easy. I'll only wish you luck for tomorrow's trial. You'll definitely need it." And with that, he left the interrogation room.

"I wouldn't want to meet that kid in a well-lit alley, let alone a dark one," Dipper said. "I can't quite put my finger on why, but something about him gives me the creeps."

"I'd love to meet him in any alley," Trucy said.

"What about that guy who really likes you in school?" Athena asked. "Trevor Slightly?"

That dorky wannabe magician?

"Trevor doesn't fill out a suit like Colby," Trucy said. "Besides, what happens in Gravity Falls stays in Gravity Falls."

"That is true, yet disturbing," Dipper said.

Couldn't agree more with the kid. I think Trucy's going to need another lecture on 'no dating until after you're married' but after I take care of this case. "So, Dipper...is that really what you want to be called?" I asked.

"Only my parents call me Mason, so…" Dipper said.

"All right," I said. "We're going to defend you. Which means we need to ask you a few questions before we visit the crime scene and investigate."

"Who do you think did it?" Trucy asked.

Dipper didn't hesitate. "Gideon Gleeful."

"The prosecutor did it?" I asked. "There's an awful lot of precedent for that." I remembered Manfred von Karma's howl of rage. The blood running from under Godot's mask. Those men of wrath and pride. Prosecutor and Queen-pretender Ga'ran Khura'in. And Edgeworth told me about the former Chief Prosecutor for the district turning out to be a multiple murderer.

"My claim to fame was a case where the prosecutor didn't do it, but I see your point," Athena said.

"Did I ever tell you about the case I had where it turned out the prosecutor caused a fire that nearly destroyed an entire town?" I asked.

"What?" Dipper asked.

"Oh, it was an accident," I said quickly. "Why do you suspect Gideon?"

"You don't know him like I do," Dipper said. "He's an arrogant, spiteful creature."

"So typical prosecutor?" Athena asked.

"He could get rid of any evidence that points to him," Trucy pointed out.

"But why would he just give us this recording if he's forging evidence?" I asked. "We can look into Gideon as a suspect, but there might be other candidates. Do you know anyone who'd want to set you up?"

Dipper blanched. "Well, do you have all night?"

"Come on, you can't have that many enemies," I said.

"There's Robbie Valentino, Mr. Poolcheck, Blind Ivan might have gotten his memory back, Bud Gleeful, the manotaurs, a very angry and horrible shapeshifting abomination…"

Wow. He must be a prodigy when it comes to cheesing people off. "OK, do you know anyone who'd want to kill the victim? What was his name again?"

"Toby Determined," Dipper said. "The head reporter…well, only reporter for the Gravity Falls Gossiper. Last August, he got a job as a sportscaster for Gravity Falls Public Access TV, but he got fired for too many harassment complaints. All of them filed by Shandra Jimenez. The newspaper is failing, and sometimes Toby had to pawn equipment just to have enough money to keep it afloat. Like his microphone. He'd use a turkey baster as a substitute microphone."

"Was Gideon telling the truth about how he led you into an ambush?" I asked.

"Yes, that's true," Dipper said. "Gideon's had a crush on my sister since they first met. It's only slightly less disturbing than the crush Toby had on Shandra Jimenez. He thinks I'm in the way, even though Mabel has explicitly told him that she can't stand him."

"And I assume Colby was joking about that stuff about a supervillain and a giant robot…?" Athena asked.

"Um, no, that stuff was all true too," Dipper said. He sighed. "The mayor passed the Never Mind All That Act, so don't discuss what I'm about to tell you in town. Gideon summoned a dream demon named Bill Cipher. Bill was this vicious dorito who wanted to make the world as weird as he is, and he's been trying to enter this world for decades."

"OK, I can take giant robot and spy cameras, but you really expect me to believe Gideon called forth a demon?" I asked.

Athena and Trucy looked at me as if I had sprouted a second head.

"You're on a first name basis with people who can channel the dead," Trucy said.

"Well, they do say the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was to convince the world he didn't exist," Athena added sagely. Her smile faded and Widget turned purple to indicate worry. "Just like the Phantom."

"Yeah, but the Phantom was human," I said. "They just called him a phantom because he was like ether."

"I don't expect you to believe me about Bill," Dipper said. "But he existed. He might not be entirely gone, but he existed and he was dangerous. He turned my uncle into a gold statue and used it as a backscratcher. He stole my body. And that was heavenly compared to when he threw me like a rag doll. If he hadn't messed up the laws of physics, my spine would have been shattered on impact with that tree."

"So what happened to him?" Trucy asked.

"My family defeated Bill by tricking him into entering my uncle Stan's mind, and then using a memory-wipe gun to erase his mind." Dipper said without hesitating.

"Wait, what?!" Athena interrupted. "How can you just erase someone's mind?"

"Well, using that gun too much ruins your sanity if Old Man McGucket is any indicator," Dipper replied. "Great-uncle Stan had bad amnesia for a while, but he regained his memories. As for Bill, the only thing left of him is his physical body turned into a stone statue. My friend Wendy told me that the statue was found in the woods shortly after my sister and I went home. The townspeople put it in the park. Some jokers put obscene graffiti on it, but the graffiti would disappear and…" Dipper swallowed. "So would the vandals. Now the statue's in the basement of City Hall and locked up."

"You said you 'went home'?" I asked. "So you don't live here?"

"Mabel and I are from Piedmont. Our parents sent us to Gravity Falls to spend a summer with Grunkle Stan. When the summer was over, we went home. Then…" He chuckled slightly. "Our school was hosting a science and technology expo, and I took Mabel with me. And she was playing around and caused a chain reaction that destroyed part of the school and polluted the air. Seriously, the area around the school is not currently safe for anyone who wants to have children. Or live past the age of fifty. The school wanted to expel Mabel, but Mom managed to talk them down to a three month suspension. My father thought it would be best to send us elsewhere while Mabel served out the suspension. Uncle Stan and his brother Uncle Ford were still sailing around the world, but our friend Soos agreed to let us stay with him. We've been attending Gravity Falls Middle School since then. I know I've only given you the Cliff's Notes version but telling you everything that happened last summer would take over twenty hours."

"The murder took place last night," Athena said. "So what were you doing?"

"Soos took Mabel and me to get some takeout. Mabel wanted to get some candy from the convenience store next door, so we went together. Then we went home, ate the takeout for dinner, watched some TV and went to bed."

A verifiable alibi? There must be some damned good evidence beyond the recording if the D.A. thinks he can take this to trial.

"Is there anything you remember about last night?" I asked.

"There is something…" Dipper seemed hesitant. "Mabel was acting odd. Well, more so than usual. She didn't say much during dinner. Which is strange, since she's very chatty. I remember I got up to use the bathroom, but her bed was empty. And when I got back into bed, she was still gone. And then she came in, crawled into bed, and pretended to be asleep. I know she was pretending because she was faking some loud snoring. I think maybe she saw something and is scared. I know you're already going out of your way to take my case, but please keep her safe."

Athena saluted. "You can count on us."

"I'm scared," Dipper said. "I've been chased by dinosaurs, traveled through time, faced down an insane dream demon. Why is this mundane thing scaring me more?"

"I know it's scary," Trucy said. "But you're in good hands with Daddy."

"Also, be careful," Dipper said. "You're not from around here. This town really plays with your mind if you're not used to the weirdness."

"Believe me," I said. "Weirdness I can deal with."

Famous last words.


	2. Pre-trial investigation

Trucy, Athena, and I headed toward the front of the Detention Center to plan our next move. 

The plump man who was eating breakfast with Dipper and his sister was standing near the door. 

Athena walked up to him. “Hi, can we help you? We’re Dipper’s defense team. I’m Athena Cykes, this is the legendary Phoenix Wright, and his daughter Trucy.” 

The man gazed at me. “Oh, yeah. I came here to bail Dipper out, but Durland told me he was remanded. I asked him what that meant, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know.” 

“They remanded him?” I repeated. “That means they’re holding him without bail.” 

“Well, that’s disappointing, but I’m a little relieved.” The chubby man patted his wallet. “I think these credit cards Mr. Pines left me in case of emergency are all maxed out.” The man stuck out his hand. “I’m Soos Alzamirano-Ramirez, second Mister Mystery. I’m taking care of Dipper and Mabel while their great-uncles are away.” 

“Yeah,” I said. “I heard Mabel got in trouble at school back in California. Do you know where she is right now?” 

“I took her home from Greasy’s ‘cause she said she was feeling sick. She looked, like, really pale, dude.” 

Hmm. Maybe Dipper was right about her seeing something she shouldn’t have. Well, she should be safe at home. We can ask her after we look at the crime scene. “Where are you and the Pines twins staying?” 

Soos puffed out his chest. “The Mystery Shack, down Gopher Road.” 

The door opened, and a tall girl wearing green flannel, jeans, and heavy boots ran in. Her long bright red hair, darker than Athena’s, was loose but held down by the tall trucker hat she wore. The hat was emblazoned with a blue pine tree. “Soos! I got here as soon as I could,” She panted. “Ran the whole way from school.” 

“Wendy, you didn’t have to skip class,” Soos said. 

The girl shrugged. “History’s boring anyway.” She glanced in my direction. “So you’re the lawyer?” 

“Excuse me,” Athena said. “Lawyers. Plural.” 

“Pfft,” Wendy said. “You’re barely older than me.” 

“Um, there’s a ten year old with a prosecutor’s badge,” Athena snapped, Widget displaying his red angry emoticon in her necklace. 

Wendy groaned. “Let me guess: Gideon Gleeful?” 

“Got it in one,” Trucy said. 

“Ugh, that brat is insufferable,” Wendy shook her head. 

“Isn’t Gideon a bit young to be a prosecutor?” Athena asked. “And we’ve faced some young ones.”

Wendy shrugged. “Yeah, the child labor laws here are kind of weird.” 

“How so?” I asked. 

“There aren’t any,” Wendy said. “Soos here got hired at the Mystery Shack at the age of ten.” 

“Yeah, Mr. Pines told me that it wasn’t exploitation if I was, like, learning valuable job skills,” Soos added. 

“So what’s the plan?” Wendy asked. “Dipper needs our help.” 

“I’ll take all the help I can get,” I said. “The D.A. wants to pursue the death penalty.” 

Soos paled. 

Wendy frowned, but shook her head. “Soos, you thinking what I’m thinking?” 

“I think so, Wendy, but GIFfany and Rumble? What are the kids going to look like?” Soos looked deep in thought. 

“No, that there’s a conspiracy here,” Wendy’s voice was low. “Dipper’s a local hero. The townspeople would never stand for this. The Pines saved everyone from…you-know who.” 

“Ah. Yeah, but it doesn’t seem like…you-know-who’s doing.” Soos scratched his head idly, lifting the maroon fez that replaced the little cap from earlier. 

“Well, you-know-who wasn’t exactly subtle,” Wendy said. 

“I know about that Bill Cipher guy,” I said. 

“Oh, good, that saves us a lot of euphemizing,” Wendy said. “Again, doesn’t seem like Bill’s style to frame Dipper for murder and have him executed. It’s way too…” She scrunched her brow. “Human?” 

“So it’s someone else with a grudge against Dipper?” I asked. “Gideon?” 

“Yeah, but Gideon doesn’t have as much popularity as he used to,” Wendy observed. “And it’s twisted, but not quite twisted enough for his evil little brain.” 

“How about the D.A.?” I asked. “Tad Strange? I hear he was the one who told Gideon to pursue the death penalty. Don’t you think that’s…well, odd?” 

“Everyone here has got some issue,” Soos said. “Tad Strange’s is that he’s perfectly normal, so yeah, that is weird. Guess Tad Strange is a tad strange after all.” 

“Do you know where his office is?” I asked. “I’d like to have a chat with Mr. Strange.” 

Soos handed me a map of Gravity Falls and pointed out the business district. “His office is that way. Wendy, can you show our new friends around? I’m going back to the Mystery Shack.”

“You’re keeping the shack open?” Wendy asked incredulously. “Dipper’s in trouble!”

“No, I’m closed for today,” Soos said. “I just don’t want to leave Mabel and Abuelita alone. Especially with that dude who escaped from the insane asylum running loose!” 

“Your grandma is pretty tough,” Wendy said. “But I see your point.” 

Soos nodded. “It’s a good thing Melody is in Dallas for her sister’s wedding. Good luck, dudes. You’re probably gonna need it.” And with that, he left. 

Wendy clapped her hands together. “All right. We’re going to have to come up with a backup plan in case things go south at the trial. Who’s good at faking seizures?” 

“Faking seizures?” I asked. “I don’t think we need theatrics.” 

“Sorry,” Wendy said. “I was used to working under Mr. Pines.” 

Mr. Pines certainly sounds like an interesting individual, but that’s not the point here. 

“You’re not afraid of that guy who escaped from the asylum?” Trucy asked. “He’s probably totally a serial killer. If it was one of those eccentric harmless guys, they wouldn’t be tearing up the city looking for him.” 

Wendy beamed and pulled out an axe seemingly out of nowhere, then slammed it into the floor, where it left a dent. “Oh, right. You got any wood filler for this?” 

“OK, you can defend yourself,” I said quickly. 

Wendy shrugged. 

“That was so cool!” Trucy squealed. 

“So are you like Dipper’s girlfriend?” I asked. 

“Nah,” Wendy said. “He had a big crush on me for a while, but I didn’t feel the same way about him. But he is my friend. My good friend. He’s a nice kid, and he doesn’t deserve this.

“Can we get in touch with Dipper’s sister?” I asked. “I want to ask her a few questions. I’m going to investigate, but could we come to the Mystery Shack?” 

“Sure,” Wendy said. “I can also give you Mabel’s phone number. You can text her. Dipper and Mabel’s parents were super-cheap and only wanted to give them one phone to share. Since Mabel likes texting, Dipper let her keep it.” Wendy rattled off Mabel’s phone number, which Trucy entered into her own cell phone. 

My phone isn’t good for texting. Or mobile internet. Or…much else. It still dials out, though. I really should get a new one, but who’s got the money? 

Wendy said, “I’m going to do something, but I’ll meet you at the crime scene in a couple of hours.” And with that, she left the detention center. 

“Well, I guess we’ll go talk to the D.A.,” I said. 

Athena was studying the map. “Good thing this town is so small. We can cover far more ground than usual.” 

XXX

Athena drove us to Gravity Falls’ downtown area. Which consisted of only a few blocks. The highest building was the Northwest Hotel, which was a grand total of three stories. We quickly found the D.A.’s office. 

“Hi, Mr. Strange,” I said. “My name’s Phoenix Wright…” 

“I know who you are,” Tad said. He looked more like a businessman than a lawyer, in a white shirt, gray pants, and black tie. “And it’s obvious you know who I am. So don’t be shy. Just tell me what this is about.” He gestured to a small table holding a tray. A loaf of sliced white bread, some pats of butter, a few silver butter knives and a teapot rested on the tray. “Do you like bread?” 

“No thanks, watching my carb count,” Athena said. 

“More for me, then,” Tad said, picking up a slice. “I like bread.” 

“Mr. Strange,” I said. “Why are you pursuing the death penalty in this case?” 

“Ah, right to business,” Tad replied. “I like that. Simply put, orders from on high. I have nothing personal against Dipper Pines, and I truly hope this is all a misunderstanding.” 

“Couldn’t you just dismiss the charges?” Trucy asked. 

“No,” Tad answered. “Only Judge Libra can do that.” 

“Can we talk to her?” Athena asked, fiddling with her earring. 

“She sees no one,” Tad said. “And she was the one who told me to pursue the death penalty, so I doubt you could convince her.” 

“Don’t tell me she’s going to be presiding over this trial,” I said. 

“She is scheduled,” Tad said. “But I think having the legendary Phoenix Wright in our courtroom will be great for us. And I’ll see into finding an alternate judge for this trial. Don’t want it to be over too fast, do we? And of course, you will have full access to the crime scene in Trembley Park.” He handed me a business card. “Call me if you have any further questions. And if there’s nothing further, you may…leave.” 

There was some slight emphasis on the last word. I thanked Tad and the three of us left the office. 

“He seems nice,” Athena said. We were talking toward the park, which was very close to Tad’s office. “But I detect an undercurrent of fear in his voice.” 

“Looks can be deceiving,” I said, looking over Tad’s business card, plain black text on a white background. “Who puts ‘low profile’ on their business card?” 

“Not to mention he seemed a little tense,” Trucy said. “Especially when we asked if we could see that lady judge.” 

“He’s not telling us everything,” I said, coming to a stop. “Ah. Here we are. Trembley Park. Says right here on this…” There was a huge metal plaque that read: Trembley Memorial Park Rename Pending on Account of Trembley Being Revealed to Be Our Founder and Not Really Dead, Possibly Soon to be Trembley Revival Park? Peanut Brittle Immortality Park? The Northwests Have One Less Thing to Rub in Our Faces Which is Awesome Because Let’s Face It They Really Suck Park? Or Maybe We Should Just Call it Eustace Befufftlefumpter Memorial Park? Wait, Why Did You Engrave All That into the Plaque…STOP, I SAID STOP!

“Okay, I can see why they call it Trembley Park for short,” Athena said dryly. 

“I guess engraving a new plate would cost too much money,” Trucy said. “I kind of like the sound of Eustace Befufftlefumpter Memorial Park.” We walked through the gates. 

Sheriff Blubs was in the middle of some crime scene tape just beyond the entrance. 

“Hi, Sheriff,” Athena said. “How’s it going?” 

The Sheriff chugged a cup of coffee that looked more like brown sludge than anything else. “I could be watching Ducktective reruns in my boxer shorts with Durland! But no, I’m out here, securing this crime scene because Toby got eighty-sixed at the worst possible time. On top of that, I have to find that slippery insane asylum inmate.” His phone rang. Blubs glanced at it, hit the reject button, and shoved it back in his pants pocket. 

Wow. I wonder if the paramedics here are as reluctant to, you know, do their jobs. I think I owe Ema an apology. 

“What does that inmate look like?” Trucy asked. 

“I’m not at liberty to discuss his appearance,” Blubs said. 

“But shouldn’t you at least put out a description?” Trucy asked further. “So people could identify him if they see him.” 

“Ordinarily, yes, but I’ve been strictly instructed not to release any details,” Blubs said. “And that’s all I have to say on that.” 

“Will you be testifying in tomorrow’s trial?” I asked. 

“Naw, but Membrillo will cover the forensics,” Blubs replied. “He’s our medical examiner.”

“Could that insane asylum inmate have escaped town already?” Trucy asked. “That’s why you can’t find him? Sorry. It’s just mind-boggling that some crazy person could be hiding in such a peaceful town.” 

Blubs burst out laughing. “Little girl, there’s seventy miles of road in either direction. There’s no way he’d walk to the next town! The rat is hiding in Gravity Falls somewhere. Anyway, feel free to look at the crime scene.” He handed me a folder. “Here’s a copy of the autopsy report, too.” 

I opened it and glanced it over. Deceased, Toby Determined. Age 52. Cause of death a single blow to the side of the head. “Did you find the murder weapon?” 

“Yeah, a big rock,” Blubs said. “It was inside a dumpster outside the park. It had dried blood on it that we’ve matched to the victim, and it matches the wound. But the prints on it are too smudged to identify.” 

Well, that’s good. Reasonable doubt. 

“I know you’re thinking this is going to be easy,” Blubs began. “But we’ve got Dipper confessing to the crime. I mean, we did voice analysis and everything. It’s his voice.” 

“Can you tell us more about that?” Athena asked. 

Blubs pointed down past the fountain. “Those phones were set up all over town by order of Mayor Cutebike for emergencies. That phone is where the call came from, at 9:02 last night.” 

I looked past the yellow crime scene tape. There was a pink chalk outline of a short man. The body had been removed already. “When was the body removed?” 

“Last night,” Blubs answered. 

I checked the immediate area. There was a concrete pathway leading to a small platform with a fountain. A plaque nearby read Filltwerp Fountain. Yet, the body’s head was directly parallel with a large tree just off the pathway, due west of the fountain. “So he was facing the tree when he was struck?” 

“Probably never knew what hit him,” Athena said. 

“But why approach the tree at all? Why come to this park?” I scanned the autopsy report. “Probably human heritage, more muscle mass in the left wrist indicating left-handedness…wait. Probably human?!” I checked a small photo clipped to the autopsy report. “Oh. I see what you mean.” I flipped back to the medical examiner’s findings. “Stomach contents: Shandra Jimenez’s restraining order signed by Judge Libra, currywurst and french fried potatoes likely from the Lonely Man line of frozen TV dinners. Victim was wearing a white shirt, plaid pants with suspenders, a crumpled bowtie, mismatched socks, and brown loafers with a hole in the left shoe. Victim suffered from scoliosis, hyperhidrosis, and an unknown skin disease that manifested as various rashes.” 

Athena was looking at the ground. “I think I see something.” She bent down and picked up a small red object. “I don’t think this belonged to Mr. Determined.” 

I looked at the object. “A fake plastic nail?” Red nail polish and tapered to a sharp point. 

“They’re acrylic nails, Daddy,” Trucy said, not looking up from her cell phone. 

“Acrylic nail, whatever,” I said. 

“And look,” Athena gestured to the ground, off the path. Odd footprints consisting of a round, deep circle, a void where the waist would be, and a slightly rounded front sole. High heeled shoes. The prints led to the concrete pathway. There was a smear of mud where the walker had swiped their feet on the concrete to get the mud off the soles. 

“We’re looking for a woman,” Athena said. 

“Yeah,” I said. “The only women we’ve encountered are that weird waitress, Mabel, and Wendy. And I doubt any of them wear heels like that.” 

I looked over the chalk outline. Mr. Determined’s right index finger was extended. There was a small message written out into mud that had hardened. “My killer was definitively Dipper Pines. Arrest and execute him immediately. Signed, Toby Determined.” 

A dying message? I’ve seen more than enough of those. My head throbbed, remembering Wellington’s attempt….wait a second. 

Huh. The autopsy noted that Mr. Determined is likely lefthanded, but the message was ‘written’ with his right hand. This message was probably faked. Just like that ‘confession.’

“Yeah, I doubt Toby really had time to compose this pompous note,” Athena said. “Even if he wasn’t suffering from intercranial bleeding. The murderer got sloppy.” 

“I’ve been struck on the head myself, and I could barely string together a sentence,” I said. “So, I concur. I think we have more to go on than usual.” 

“That’s not saying much, because we usually have very little to go on,” Athena said. “But we do have some leads.” 

“Hey, Mr. Wright!” A female voice called. Wendy and a group of teenagers were waiting outside the crime scene tape. We crossed back over to meet them. 

“Mr. Wright, Athena, Trucy, I’d like you to meet my friends.” Wendy gestured to a lanky teenage boy with long blonde hair, a black teenage boy wearing jeans and a drippy skull t-shirt, an emo-looking boy with prominent pimples on his face and multiple silver earrings in each ear, a portly looking teen, and a teenage brunette girl with a purple streak in her hair who was typing furiously on a purple cell phone. “Meet Lee, Nate, Robbie, Thompson, and Tambry!”

“Wendy convinced the principal to excuse any student who wants to go to the courthouse to watch the trial,” Nate announced. “Said it’d be a good lesson in civets.” 

“Civics, not civets,” Thompson added quickly. He was ignored as the rest of the group hooted and chanted “Wendy! Wendy! Wendy!” 

“This is the most exciting non-mentally scarring thing that’s happened in Gravity Falls in a while,” Lee said. 

“Yeah, but it didn’t surprise me that the little punk got accused of murder,” Thompson said, crossing his arms. 

“You don’t seriously think Dipper did it,” Wendy asked. 

“Of course he didn’t do it,” Thompson said. “But it doesn’t surprise me that our Sheriff would think he did. Blubs’s laziness has no end.” 

“Just like his gut!” Nate quipped, leading the gang to roar with laughter. 

“Whatever, Thompson,” Wendy said. “You’re just jealous because Dipper got you good when he posted that picture of you drinking the movie theatre popcorn butter on the internet.” 

“He did get me good,” Thompson admitted, eyes downcast. 

“It’s got ten thousand likes and counting!” Nate added. 

“Thompson’s right, though. The Pines twins were never good at keeping their noses clean,” Robbie added. 

Tambry didn’t look up from her cell phone. “Since when you care about people keeping their noses clean?” 

“Since Thompson was talkin’ shit about someone I don’t like. I’m pretty sure Dipper did something horrible to me, but…” Robbie scratched his head. “Everytime I try to remember, I can’t. It’s like someone just zapped my brain. Sometimes I dream about this homicidal fighting game character chasing me, and I have no idea why. Think that has anything to do with it?” The rest of them stared blankly at him. “Yeah, I probably need more sleep. Why do you think I break out so much?” 

“So you guys are going to be watching the trial?” Trucy asked. “I should suggest that to my school principal. Of course, I was excused when I went to one of Polly’s trials, but that’s because I was the accused…” 

“Of course we are,” Wendy said. 

“Again, most exciting thing in a while,” Lee said. “It’s so dull here that we’ve got part time jobs but there’s nothing we can spend our money on. I’ve got a 401(k) and I have no clue what that is!” 

“We used to be able to go bowling,” Thompson added. “But then Lefty spontaneously combusted.” 

“By the way,” Trucy asked. “Do you guys know Colby Roquefort?” 

“Like the sandwich meat?” Nate asked. 

“The bailiff,” Trucy explained. “Tall, thin, platinum blonde hair, really bishie?” 

“Ohhh, that guy,” Robbie snorted. “He goes to our school.” 

Trucy took a star shaped memo pad out of her dress pocket. “Do you have his phone number? His birthday? Anything helps.” 

“He goes to our school, but that doesn’t make him our friend,” Lee said. “I don’t think I’ve even said two words to that guy.” 

“Total poser,” Robbie said. “He thinks he’s too good for us.” 

“In study hall, he’s always got a pile of books in different languages,” Wendy said. 

“He is studying to be a lawyer,” Athena said. “The books are probably in Latin.” 

Wendy shook her head. “The script didn’t look like the Roman alphabet, though. Can you excuse us again? We’re going to make some signs and foam hands to wave during the trial.” 

“This is a trial, not a sporting event,” I said. “If you make commotion during the trial, they’ll escort you out. And possibly charge you with contempt of court.” 

“We’ll just be silent protesters, then,” Robbie said. “At the very least, it will be more exciting than hearing old Mr. Budge lecture about the industrial revolution.” 

“All right, but just stay out of trouble,” I told them. 

The teenagers walked off, Tambry bringing up the rear and still furiously texting. We watched them turn the corner. 

I ducked back under the crime scene tape to talk to Sheriff Blubs one last time. 

“Did you get Dipper’s prints off the phone used to make the call? The so-called confession?” I asked. 

“No,” Blubs said.

“They were wiped off?” I asked. 

“No,” Blubs said. “There were fingerprints, but none of them were a match to Dipper Pines.” 

I glanced at the phone. “And these phones were installed recently?” 

“A month ago,” Blubs said. 

“Hmm,” I said. “Thanks, Sheriff.” 

I walked back to Trucy and Athena. A woman, in her early forties, was walking toward them. She was tan, with long straight dark hair. She was dressed in black stiletto heels and a frilly off-the-shoulder red dress. The dress’ skirt had many tiers, alternating in red and black. She was wearing a black mantilla pinned in her hair with a shiny black comb that looked like it was not made of plastic. 

“Excuse me,” the woman said with a Mexican accent. “Have you seen my children?” 

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Trucy said. “I don’t think we’ve seen any lost children.” 

“Well, thanks for at least answering me,” the lady said. “Most people just ignore me. You’re new in town, I take it?” 

“We’re just passing through,” I said. 

“People ignore you?” Athena asked. “That’s so mean!” 

“I don’t think it is,” the woman said. 

“Why not?” Athena asked. 

“I deserve it,” said the woman. “Can’t you hear what my heart says?” 

She knows about Athena’s power? “Lady, who are you?” I demanded. 

There was no answer. The woman was gone. No smoke, nothing to mark she had been there. 

“Okay, we didn’t all just hallucinate that woman,” Athena asked, fiddling with her earring. 

“Maybe she knows about your power because she read the papers?” Trucy suggested. “The resolution of UR-1 made headlines.” 

“Maybe,” Athena said. “But I heard a lot of regret in her heart.” 

“She could be involved in the murder,” I said. “She was wearing high heels.” 

“But was she missing a nail?” Athena asked. 

“She was wearing gloves,” Trucy said. 

“Lots of respectable women wear gloves,” Athena said. “That doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Even if the nail we found is hers, the nail could have broken off before the murder,” Trucy said. “It could be irrelevant.” 

“But if she is the murderer, why call attention to herself?” I asked. “Why not hide?” I sighed. “This town really is bizarre.” 

I checked my watch. “2:45. Time flies.” 

“Yo!” A boy and girl were approaching us. The boy was built very sturdily, wearing a pink shirt that said COOL on it in big letters. The girl was small, thin, with long dark hair. She wore wire-rimmed glasses. 

“I’m Grenda, and this is Candy!” The boy said. 

Ha. He even had a feminine name. “Nice to meet you, Grenda. I like to see a guy wearing pink.” 

The boy looked confused. “But I’m a girl…oh! The voice! Yeah, I get that a lot. It’s a recessive trait in my family. My aunt has it too. She wears a lot of pink like me. She even has a neat pillbox hat. Though I kind of wonder about her husband. He’s got a weird thing about monarch butterflies. I’m sure that means something, but I’m not sure what. But it’s real nice to meet ya. Any friends of Mabel’s are friends of mine.” 

“So, you’re Phoenix Wright, the famous defense attorney?” Candy asked me. 

“I am,” I said. “You’re familiar with my work.” 

“Of course,” Candy said. “I’ve been a fan of Diego Armando for years! Is it true that he only drinks seventeen cups of coffee per trial?” 

“Yeah, and at least half of them get thrown in my face,” I said. “What…made you interested in him? Do you like law?” 

“No, it’s his electronic eyes.” Candy swooned. “True improvement of human being!” 

Oh, right. It’s hard to remember sometimes that he’s still blind without that visor. I would have thought complications from that poison finally killed him, but Godot’s still alive. 

Oh, damn it, Godot’s gonna outlive us all, isn’t he? And he’s going to toss coffee cups at my grave. Fantastic. 

“Prosecutor McKenna has a metal arm,” Athena said. “She got shot years ago, and she had to have her right arm amputated at the elbow. And it has all sorts of weapons inside, including a gun.” 

Candy drooled. “So cool. Do you know her? Could I get her autograph?” 

“So, you guys are Mabel’s friends?” Trucy asked, holding up her cell phone. “I’ve been texting with her.” 

“And we need to talk to her,” I said. “Directly. Not through text.” 

“Can we come with you?” Grenda asked. “We just got out of school and the Mystery Shack is a bit far to walk.” 

“Sure,” Trucy said. 

The five of us piled into our little rental car and drove to the Mystery Shack, Candy giving us directions. The map Soos gave us was accurate, but being a resident, Candy was able to point out the quick route. Not to mention she obviously had a keen mind. 

We pulled up in front of an old looking cabin. The Mystery Shack was in big letters, but the S in Shack was askew. Mabel was seated on the front porch, petting a large pink pig. The pig oinked as Candy and Grenda approached. 

“Hi, Mabel,” I said. “Remember me?” 

“Uh huh,” she said listlessly. “You were that lawyer who came in when they arrested Dipper.” 

“Yes,” I said. “I’m Phoenix Wright and this is Athena Cykes. And you’ve met Trucy over text.” 

Mabel’s face brightened. “Oh, yes, Trucy. I have something for you.” She reached into her skirt pocket and dug out a rainbow ribbon. “A rainbow ribbon since we’re now friends. I even have an extra one for you, Athena.” 

“Wow, the colors are so bright and cheery,” Athena said. “Thanks!” 

Candy held out a tube of lip gloss. “I brought you a new tube of your favorite lip gloss. Bubble gum flavor.” 

Mabel accepted the gift. “Thanks, Candy. I ate the last tube already.” 

“Um, is that safe to eat?” Trucy asked, sounding worried. 

“If it wasn’t meant to be licked, they wouldn’t make it taste so good,” Mabel said sagely. 

“Mabel, Dipper’s worried about you,” I said. 

“He’s the one in jail and he’s worried about me?” Mabel pouted. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve a brother like Dipper.” 

“I have often pondered that same question,” Candy said. “He did give up a chance to study directly under a bona-fide mad scientist just because you wanted him to stay with you…” 

“Well, he said that you seemed a little distracted this morning and last night,” I filled in before Mabel could glare at Candy. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask. Did you see anything unusual the night of the murder?” 

“No,” Mabel said quickly. 

Time seemed to stop. Before my eyes, mystical looking chains swirled around Mabel. Five psyche-locks, red with gilt embossing. 

Hmm. 

“Is something wrong?” Mabel asked. 

“No,” I said. I had suspicions, but I would need to look further if I was going to break those psyche-locks. “I think Athena, Trucy, and I are going to go find a hotel and check in. Big day ahead tomorrow, you know.” 

“All right,” Mabel said quietly. 

“Don’t worry, Mabel!” Grenda said. “We’re going to have an awesome sleepover so we can take your mind off the fact that your brother’s been accused of murder and is very likely to be executed because our court system is stupid…!”

“But there’s a possible homicidal maniac running around!” Athena said. “Shouldn’t you girls be in town instead of out there where the nearest house is at least a mile away?” 

“Pshaw,” Grenda said. “Sometimes Candy and I combine to form Grendy, and no one can stop us!” 

“People run in terror,” Candy added. “Plus, Grenda alone can smash a boulder into pebbles, so we’ll be perfectly safe.” 

“Ordinarily, I’d want in on Grendy,” Mabel said. “We’d be Grendybel. But…” 

“But…?” Candy asked. 

Mabel fiddled with the band holding her cloud of curly brown hair in place. “I…am just so emotionally overwhelmed that I need to be alone tonight.” 

“You don’t seem emotionally overwhelmed,” Candy said. 

“Don’t tell me how to feel!” Mabel snapped. 

“Mabel, your friends are worried about you,” Athena said. “I know you’re anxious, but more time is needed with your friends, not less. It’s hard seeing someone you love accused of murder, but it’s even harder to face it alone.” 

“It’s okay, Miss Athena,” Grenda said. “I can understand needing space. We can have a sleepover when Mr. Wright here gets Dipper free!” 

“Can understand needing space?” Trucy asked. “Is your family big, Grenda?” 

“No, she just has a needy but hot and rich boyfriend overseas,” Candy supplied. 

“Yeah,” Grenda said. “He sent me a diamond ring this week. The diamond’s the size of a cashew!” She laughed. “Classic Marius.” 

XXX

After dropping off Grenda and Candy back in town, Athena, Trucy, and I returned to the Detention Center to consult with Dipper about what we’ve learned. 

“Oof!” Athena slammed into a young girl with long blonde hair. The girl was also dressed in designer clothes and holding an expensive-looking pink cell phone. 

“I’m sorry,” Athena said. “I didn’t see you there!” 

“Well, open your eyes!” The girl snapped and stormed off. 

“What a rude bitch!” Widget chirped. 

“I think she dropped something,” Trucy said, bending down to pick up a small object from the floor. “It’s a phone charm. The cord must have snapped when you bumped into her.” The charm was shaped like a sea turtle and made from some green stone. 

“How are things?” I asked when we were able to talk with Dipper in the interrogation room. 

“Could be better,” Dipper said. “They forgot to feed me, but Pacifica brought me some fast food and bribed the guard to ignore it.” 

“Pacifica?” Athena repeated. “By any chance is she blonde, well-dressed, and rude as hell?” 

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were acquainted with Pacifica Northwest,” Dipper said quickly. 

“We bumped into each other as she was leaving,” Athena said, absently rubbing her shin. “Wait. I heard a lot of swirling emotions in her heart. Concern, fear, and…warm affection? Is Pacifica your girlfriend?” 

Dipper coughed. “Of course not!” 

“You’re such a liar!” Trucy said. “I felt the tension in your voice.” 

“Why would I want to date Pacifica?” Dipper said. “She’s the spoiled only child of the richest man in town. And Preston Northwest is a giant jerk who’d sooner chase me out of town with a shotgun!” Dipper’s cheeks were red. 

“Pines and Northwest v. Tree. Tree alleges K-I-S-S,” Athena said. 

“OK, ladies, that’s enough,” I told them. 

“Say, Dipper, do you recognize this cell phone charm?” Trucy asked, holding up the turtle bauble. 

“Oh, I gave that to Pacifica,” Dipper said. 

“So it’s a love token?” Trucy asked. 

“Nah, just something I bought in Piedmont,” Dipper said. “I saw it and thought about her.”

“She reminds you of a sea turtle?” I asked. 

“No, her parents remind me of sea turtles,” Dipper said. “You know how the mother sea turtle lays her eggs on a beach and forgets about them? And the babies have to get to the water with no help whatsoever?” 

“Sounds like her parents are never around,” Athena said. 

“Nah, they’re just controlling jerks,” Dipper clarified. “I thought she’d like it. She didn’t ask me for a gift receipt when I gave it to her a few weeks ago, so I assume she liked it. It’s not like she said so, or even thanked me…” 

“We’ll return it to her,” Athena said. 

“Yeah, because you liiike her!” Trucy said, making her impish expression.

“I said that’s enough!” I snapped. “Dipper, Mabel’s hiding something. Do you have any ideas?” 

Dipper shrugged. “Maybe she’s hiding a new boyfriend in her room. She’s done that so many times. Once she tried to outsmart my parents by hiding the boyfriend in my room, but that fell apart when I sneezed and he said, ‘gesundheit.’ I remember because he was the German exchange student Heinrich. Ugh, Heinrich.” 

“He was a bad boyfriend?” Trucy asked. 

“No, it’s just that Mabel’s…forwardness freaked out his host mom, who told his mom back home, and so he flew back to Dresden that week. And now Mabel gets teary eyed whenever she sees German chocolate cake.” 

“I tried to tell Gideon that Mabel and Soos were with me that night,” Dipper said. “But he just said they would lie to protect me. And that his mom saw me that night.” 

“Gideon’s mom?” I asked. 

“Yes, Mrs. Gleeful,” Dipper said. “She’s a witness for the prosecutor, evidently.” 

“By any chance is she a compulsive liar?” I asked. 

“I don’t know her very well,” Dipper said. “But Gideon apparently got the compulsive lying from his dad. But she obviously didn’t see me, so why would she say she did? I’m guessing Gideon put her up to it.” 

“I guess so. But a testimony founded on deception is like a house with a faulty foundation,” I said. “As soon as you expose one lie, the witness will try to cover it up with more lies. Until finally, the testimony collapses like a jerry-built house. Don’t worry. I’m good at finding contradictions. I know you didn’t do this, Dipper. I just ask that you trust me.” 

“All right,” Dipper said. 

Athena sniffled. “So moving, boss.” 

“Come on, Athena, Trucy,” I said. “We need to prepare for tomorrow.” 

“As usual, I feel backed up against the wall,” I complained as we left the detention center. 

“As you say, the worst time is when you have to put on the best smile,” Trucy gently chided me. 

“C’est la vie,” Athena replied. 

“Yeah, Daddy,” Trucy said. “You’ve made a career out of rolling with the punches…” 

A large, hulking green beast with sharp fangs swooped down and plucked a little plump boy with light brown hair and a T-shirt with a pirate on it. 

Ah! Father mode! I covered Trucy’s eyes. 

“Daddy, I’ve seen all of the Running Dead,” Trucy said. “And that was way tamer than half the stuff on Sport of Crowns.” 

I groaned. My daughter’s a magician, so why does it still shock me that she can bypass the parental controls on our DVR? I sighed. “I hate this place.” 

The monster burped. “Excuse me,” he said in a rasping voice that sounded like someone who smoked way too many cigarettes. 

“Aren’t you a polite one?” Athena asked. 

“Polite monsters? What next?” Widget added. 

“Athena!” I said. “Don’t converse with the hideous abomination that just ate a kid in front of you! He might eat you next.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t,” the monster said. “Goblins, you see, have slow digestive systems. I’ll be able to live on this for a month.” 

“So you’re a goblin?” Trucy asked. 

“Gremloblin,” the monster corrected.   
“Well, nice to meet you, Mr. Gremloblin,” Athena said. 

“Oh, no, Mr. Gremloblin is my father,” the Gremloblin said with a pronounced shudder. 

Once again, I hate this place. I miss it when the worst monsters were the evil prosecutors. And even the ones that aren’t corrupt who were pains in the ass, from Godot’s coffee showers to Franziska’s whip to Blackquill’s hawk…

Of course, Gideon turned out to be a pain, but I’m getting ahead of myself. 

To Be Continued


	3. Trial Former

Athena and I climbed the stairs of Gravity Falls’ Courtroom. Usually, the courtroom steps are filled with reporters, but there was only one: a woman in late thirties to early forties, with long dark hair, light brown skin, holding a microphone. She wore a light blue blouse, a medium blue sweater vest, and a black skirt.

 

“Mr. Wright?” She said. “Shandra Jimenez, Gravity Falls Public Access. Do you have any strategies you’d like to share with the audience before the trial?”

 

“No comment,” I said.

 

“Wait, Daddy,” Trucy said. “She was the lady Mr. Determined really liked.”

 

I stopped. Oh. Right. I looked at the hand holding the microphone. Clear nail polish with glitter. “We know Dipper didn’t kill Mr. Determined, but we need to ask you about who did.”

 

“Because it could have been you,” Trucy said.

 

Shandra fake-laughed. “Why would that be?” She gestured to the cameraman behind her. “Cut!”

 

“Because he got fired from his last job for sexual harassment complaints you filed,” Athena said.

 

“Oh, and there was a restraining order in his stomach contents,” I said.

 

“All right, fine,” Shandra said. “He was stalking me. But so what? Unless he choked on the restraining order I crammed down his throat so he would _finally_ get the hint, I didn’t kill him.”

 

“Where were you on the night of the murder?” I asked.

 

“At Gravity Falls’ Public Access Studio,” Shandra snapped. “I wouldn’t blame anyone in Gravity Falls for not watching the broadcast because it’s all filler and puff pieces, but the timestamps on the footage should prove I was there.”

 

Well, that’s one way to stop a reporter from shoving a microphone in your face and demanding a statement. Accuse them of murder! I’ll have to remember this for future trials.

 

“I’m not sorry he’s gone,” Shandra said. “But I am going to cover this trial like a true professional. Now if only newsworthy events would happen more often in this town.” Shandra stomped off, her heels clicking on the stone steps. “I have a journalism degree from Penn State, Hirsch damn it!”

 

“I think she was telling the truth, Daddy,” Trucy said.

 

“Yeah, I feel a bit nauseated from all the vitriol in her heart,” Athena said.

 

“So much bitterness…” Widget said in a wheezy-sounding voice.

 

“I guess we look elsewhere for suspects,” I said.

 

We entered the courthouse and passed Pacifica in the hallway, accompanied by a man whom I assumed to be her father.

 

“Are you okay, Pacifica?” Athena asked. “You look tired.” She dug in her pocket. “I wanted to give this back to you.”

 

The tall man next to Pacifica scoffed. He was wearing a dark suit with NW embroidered on the blazer pocket. He wore a large gold signet ring on the middle finger of his right hand. “My daughter would never touch such a cheap trinket. You must be mistaken.” He looked at Pacifica, whose hand had migrated to her mouth. He seized her hand and looked at her fingernails. “And what have I told you about biting your nails?! You march yourself to your mom’s makeup artist and get these prettied up right now, young lady.”

 

“But Dad!” Pacifica cried. “I want to watch the trial.”

 

The man was about to say something, but I heard the clicking of high heels. The long-haired woman from yesterday was standing at attention behind us.

 

“Mr. Northwest,” the woman said. “I have some status reports,”

 

“It better be good news,” Mr. Northwest said, following her down the hall and leaving us with Pacifica.

 

“My charm?” Pacifica said timidly once the mysterious woman and Mr. Northwest had walked out of earshot.

 

Athena handed it to her.

 

Pacifica beamed happily. “Thanks so much. Dipper gave me this phone charm. I get nervous if I don’t have this with me.”

 

“Pacifica, do you know who that lady with your dad is?” Trucy asked.

 

“Her name’s Rona Round,” Pacifica answered. “She’s my dad’s new personal assistant.”

 

“Have you noticed anything…off about her?” Athena asked.

 

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Pacifica said. “Go in there and defend Dipper!”

 

“Fair enough,” I said. Athena and I walked toward the defendant lobby, with Trucy following close behind.

 

We passed by Sheriff Blubs, whose sunglasses were slightly askew. He was talking into a cell phone. “How is this my fault?! My town’s in a panic! The murder trial and the escapee are whipping them into a frenzy…”

 

Dipper was sitting in the defendant lobby, handcuffed and with leg chains.

 

 “I just have one question,” Trucy said. “Why are you called Dipper? I mean, it doesn’t really follow from Mason.”

 

Dipper sighed. “Well, it’s because I have this birthmark on my forehead.” He pushed aside his bangs. “People noticed it looks just like the Big Dipper, so they started calling me Dipper. And it stuck. And Mason’s such a boring name, so I stopped correcting people after a while.”

 

“And you hide it?” I asked.

 

“Yeah,” Dipper said. “I got too self-conscious about people making fun of it. Isn’t Phoenix a nickname?”

 

“No,” I said. “It’s my given name.”

 

“Oh,” Dipper said quietly. “I thought maybe you got a tattoo of a phoenix in college or something.”

 

 Awkward. “Let’s head in.” Athena and Trucy helped Dipper walk with the heavy chains, while I pushed the door open. Athena helped Dipper into the defendant’s chair and took her position next to me on the defense’s bench.

 

Gideon was already standing at the prosecutor’s bench, clearly standing on a stepstool of some kind.

 

“This courtroom looks awful,” I said. The walls were covered in peeling wallpaper with print so badly faded I couldn’t discern the original pattern. The roof was leaking, water dripping down from several places. “Our courtroom back home looked so much better, even after a bomb hit it.”

 

Gideon adjusted his position on the stepstool. “Have you made your peace, Dipper Pines?”

 

“Have you made your peace with the fact you’re an utter tool?” Dipper responded. He glanced around the courtroom. “Where’s that flunky of yours? The big guy with the cataracts?”

 

“Ghost Eyes?” Gideon asked. “He’s in Dallas for his brother’s wedding. He was heartbroken when he learned my first trial was today, but I told him that family should come first.”

 

Dipper gestured to his feet. “Were the leg chains really necessary?!”

 

Colby cleared his throat. “All right, people, shut your traps! All rise for the Honorable Fiddleford H. McGucket!” An elderly man walked in, wearing a black robe. He had unsuccessfully tried to iron it, as it had a large burn mark near the hem. He was also wearing a battered hat and a bandage on a bushy beard that could make the Judge envy him.

 

“Objection!” This came from Gideon. “Judge Libra was supposed to be presiding over this case!”

 

“Change of plans,” Judge McGucket replied.

 

“When on earth did you become a judge?” Gideon asked incredulously.

 

“Last month,” Colby stated. “He bought the election with profits from his patents.”

 

“A-yup,” McGucket agreed. “I even got my fancy wig and everything!” He lifted his hat to reveal a wig that seemed to be made of six opossums tied together by their tails. The opossums were wiggling erratically trying to escape.

 

“It’s a conflict of interest the size of Nebraska!” Gideon snapped. “You’re friends with the Pines. Not to mention you built my Gideon-bot. Oh, yeah, and you’re madder than an outhouse rat!”

 

“Judges don’t have to abide by them conflict of interest rules…” McGucket responded. “Says so in the Gravity Falls charter.”

 

“Well, it appears Trembley’s craziness sometimes has advantages,” Dipper whispered.

 

“Fine,” Gideon said. “The prosecution has no more objections. I can beat Mr. Wright here even with a kook like you as the presiding judge.”

 

“I prefer the term normality-challenged,” McGucket said. “So, let’s get this trial started.” He pulled out a large tome titled _The Complete Idiot’s Guide to the Courtroom_. “So the prosecution gives an opening statement, then the defense, then we hear some witnesses…”

 

Well, this isn’t the big break I was hoping Tad would give us, but I’ll have to take what I can get.

 

“Do you have an opening statement?” Dipper asked me. “Because I’ve got a good one if you don’t: ‘Everything that guy says is B.S.’ And do the point at Gideon to really sell it.”

 

“I’m not going to say that,” I said.

 

“Dipper Pines,” Gideon said. “My hated nemesis. Former hometown hero, now a common murderer. On the night in question, he struck Toby Determined on the head with this rock.” He gestured to a large, white rock with dried blood. “The blood has been successfully matched to Toby Determined. This court seeks to prove Dipper Pines’ guilt with decisive forensic evidence and testimony.” He bowed slightly. “Thank you.”

 

“Boo!” Mabel, Grenda, Candy, Wendy, and Wendy’s friends chorused. Pacifica was silent but glowered at Gideon.

 

I scanned the gallery and spotted Rona in the gallery. Pacifica’s dad was not present. Rona was checking something on her cell phone, seemingly oblivious to the trial.

 

“The gallery will be silent!” McGucket said. “Mr. Wright?”

 

“My client, Dipper Pines, most certainly did not kill Toby Determined,” I said. “But rather than list the reasons why, I’m going to show through a demonstration. How much does the murder weapon weigh?”

 

 “Ten pounds,” Gideon said.

 

“There’s no way Dipper would be able to lift a rock that heavy,” I said. “Look at his thin arms.”  

 

Gideon snickered. “You’re insulting your own client, Mr. Wright?”

 

I shook my head. “It’s just biology. My client is still a child.”

 

“So am I,” Gideon said.

 

“Could you lift the rock, Mr. Gleeful?” Athena asked.

 

Gideon snorted, grasped the rock in both hands, and lifted it with some strain on his face. A few drops of sweat broke out along his forehead. “See. If I can do it, Dipper Pines could certainly do it. Now stop stalling, Mr. Wright.” He set it down and clapped his hands. Colby took out a navy handkerchief and wiped Gideon’s brow.

 

“You can lift it, but could you have used it as a bludgeon?” Athena asked.

 

“Fine!” Gideon snapped, walking to the defendant’s chair and placing the rock in front of Dipper. “Prove me wrong.”

 

Dipper placed both hands around the rock and strained. He grunted.

 

“Oh, quit faking it,” Gideon said. “Are you seriously claiming I’m stronger than you?!”

 

“I can’t do it,” Dipper said. “I don’t care if you laugh.”

 

Suddenly, Dipper lifted the rock above his head.

 

“Ha!” Gideon crowed. “Knew you were lying, Pines.”

 

“The rock moved on its own,” Dipper cried, dropping the rock like it was made of lava. It landed on the cracked and faded linoleum floor. “You…you staged this! You moved the rock!”

 

“The defendant will refrain from making baseless accusations,” Gideon said. “I was standing three feet from you. The entire courtroom saw you – _you_ – lift that rock.”

 

“Why would I lift it?” Dipper asked. “If being able to lift it makes me look guilty?”

 

“Maybe because you’re a horrible liar?” Gideon asked.

 

“Well, I guess the truth _is_ a foreign concept to you,” Dipper’s voice was laced with venom. “Prosecutor Gleeful.”

 

“Your Honor!” Gideon wailed.

 

“Now, now, Dipper,” Judge McGucket said.

 

“I’m serious,” Dipper said. “He made it look like I lifted it.”

 

“Again, how?” Gideon replied acidly.

 

“You had an amulet that gave you telekinesis,” Dipper responded.

 

“Key word there is had,” Gideon shot back. “Mabel smashed it, remember?”

 

“You could have another one…” Dipper said. “Great-uncle Ford took really good notes. I’m sure you could have figured out how to make another one.”

 

“By that logic, you could have one too,” Gideon said. “You took the second Journal from me. And you had access to them until…” He looked to the audience, where a thin man in biker shorts and a shirt cobbled together from two shirts with a sash reading ‘Mayor’ frowned at him. “Certain events. And then when everything became as it was before, the Journals were restored. You could have used an amulet to levitate the rock even if you could not lift it yourself!” He smirked. “Your attempt to throw suspicion on me has only made you look more suspicious.”

 

There was murmuring amongst the gallery members.

 

“Boss,” Athena said. “Our attempt to clear Dipper just backfired,”

 

“They just don’t make it easy,” Widget chorused.

 

“I guess Gideon expected us to try something like this,” I said.  

 

“He caught you napping,” Trucy observed.

 

“Maybe you strained a muscle braining Toby, Mr. Pines,” Colby said. “That’s why you struggled with lifting the rock today. Shall I get you some ibuprofen?”

 

“That’s…weird,” Athena whispered to me.

 

“Everything’s weird about this place, dear,” I said. “What did you see?”

 

“It’s what I heard. I heard surprise and indignation in Gideon’s voice,” Athena said. “But there was no surprise in Colby’s. In fact, all I’m getting is smug self-satisfaction.”

 

“Hmm,” I said. “I think we’re going to have to look into Mr. Roquefort.” _And Trucy is not getting near him_. I glanced at Colby, who met my gaze. He gave me a slight smile, but I had seen enough smarmy smiles from Edgeworth, Franziska von Karma, Manfred von Karma, Godot, and every other prosecutor to know exactly what he was thinking.

 

This kid might be the murderer. At the very least, he knows more than he’s letting on.

 

The witness took the stand. He was a slim man of about forty years of age, with tan skin and dark brown close-cropped hair. He wore a dirty set of blue coveralls and a set of goggles on his head.

 

“Witness,” Gideon said. “State your name and occupation.”

 

“Dr. Tristán Membrillo, storyteller.”

 

“Since when is a coroner a storyteller?” Gideon asked in a confused tone.

 

"Death makes sad stories of us all,” Membrillo answered. "And the moral of every story is the same: we may have years, we may have hours, but sooner or later we push up flowers."

 

Wow. He’s a poet and doesn’t even know it.

 

Dr. Membrillo turned on a projector as Colby pulled down the screen.

 

The screen showed two blown up photos of hair strands of the same structure, only the right hairs were of a lighter shade of brown. “On the left, I have exemplars from the defendant, Mason ‘Dipper’ Pines. The right side are hairs that were found in the victim’s left hand. As you can see, the hairs are a perfect morphological match…”

 

I glanced at Dipper. His hands were clenched into fists so tight his knuckles were going white.

 

“OBJECTION!” I said. “Dr. Membrillo. You claim these hairs are a morphological match. Did you run DNA tests?”

 

“I attempted,” Membrillo said. “But the tests were inconclusive.”

 

“They were not a match to Dipper?” I asked.

 

“I took a follicular tag from one of the hairs, and ran it through a PCR machine, but it gave me an error message. I suppose the machine is old. I know it’s a poor coroner who blames his tools, but how am I supposed to turn up anything with the equipment they give me? Nevertheless, the hairs do match.”

 

“Not so,” I said. “The hairs you found on the victim are lighter than Dipper’s, so it is not his hair.”

 

“Hair fades in the sun,” Membrillo said. “I see no contradiction.”

 

“Dipper wears a hat most of the time,” I replied. “And Toby Determined was killed at night, and his body was removed from the crime scene before sunrise, so the hair hasn’t had time to fade. My objection stands.”

 

“So it does,” Membrillo said.

 

“Wait…you’re not going to argue with me?” I asked.

 

“No,” Membrillo responded. 

 

A cooperative witness?! This town is weird.

 

“What about the dying message?” I asked.

 

“What about it?” Membrillo asked.

 

“I went to the crime scene,” I said. “It was scratched in the mud. ‘Dipper Pines is definitively my killer’?”

 

“Possibly a practical joke,” Membrillo said. “The victim may not have lost consciousness immediately, but he certainly did not have time to write that message. And certainly not with his nondominant hand.”

 

“It could have appeared after the fact,” I said. “But what if the real murderer planted it?”

 

“I can only discuss the facts,” Membrillo replied. “Speculation on the crime scene is your forte.”

 

“You don’t think it’s real?” I asked.

 

“Toby Determined had a degree in Dance from a junior college, so no, I don’t think anything he’d write while suffering from a subarachnoid hemorrhage would be this eloquent,” Membrillo said. “Besides, we have quite a few pranksters in town. Judge McGucket himself could tell you how some of those ne’er-do-wells wrote ‘McSuck It’ on the walls of his posh new house.” At this, Nate and Lee were whistling nonchalantly.

 

“Yeppers,” McGucket said.

 

“Not to mention the muffin on the water tower,” Membrillo said.

 

“At least it wasn’t a hand giving the finger,” Athena commented, giving me a slight smile.

 

“You seem to be in good spirits, Dr. Membrillo,” I said.

 

“Oh, so you’ve noticed?” Membrillo said, almost playfully. “The secret is that I have the heart of a thirteen-year-old boy. I keep it in a jar on my desk. Sorry. Old coroner joke.”

 

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Gideon said. “You know, once the defendant is executed…ow!” Mabel had thrown her compact mirror at him, which struck him in the forehead. “All right, all right, this isn’t the time for hilarious jokes. And the defendant’s sister will refrain from throwing things at my head.” He stepped on the mirror and it broke. His face reddened as he kicked the shards away.

 

“Now call your next witness, Prosecutor Gideon,” McGucket slammed his gavel.

 

“That’s Prosecutor Gleeful,” Gideon said. “Ugh, never mind. Next witness, you’re up.”

 

“You may step down,” McGucket said to Membrillo.  

 

The next witness took the stand. If you used careworn to describe how this woman looked, you’d be right. You’d be understating it, but you’d be right. Her hair, prematurely gray, was a frizzly mass that seemed able to swallow combs whole. She wore a simple green dress with puffy sleeves and lighter green trim around the hem and sleeve edges.

 

“State your name,” Gideon said.

 

The woman looked confused. “You already know my name.”

 

“We have to follow protocol,” Gideon retorted. “Now. State. Your. Name.”

 

The woman shut her eyes. “Constance Lee Gleeful.”

 

“Now was that so hard?” Gideon asked sweetly. “Now, can you tell the court what you saw?”

 

Constance sighed. “I decided to take up a new hobby. Night photography. The night Mr. Determined died, I was on Sandy Hill, taking photos of the night sky. The emergency phone is visible from the top of the hill. I saw Dipper Pines run to the phone. I was curious, so I walked down the hill with my camera, and I heard him say…” She gulped. “’I did it. I killed him.’ I raised my camera and took a quick picture.”

 

“This is a copy of the photo taken at 9:02,” Gideon said.

 

“The court accepts this into evidence,” Judge McGucket said.

 

I looked at the photo. The time and date were stamped clear as day. 9:02 the night of the murder. The photo showed a profile of…well, Dipper. Wearing a trucker hat very much like the one Wendy wore. He was holding the receiver without gloves.

 

Crap. There’s no getting around this. Dipper’s voice on the 9-1-1 call and now photographic evidence? And it doesn’t look like this photo has been doctored.

 

“Your witness, Mr. Wright,” Gideon said with a smirk.

 

“Mrs. Gleeful,” I said. “Did your camera flash?”

 

“Yes,” she said.

 

“Did Dipper notice it?” I asked.

 

“He glanced in my direction,” she replied.

 

“And how did he react?”

 

“He gave me this odd expression,” Constance said. “It was like he was…smiling.”

 

“Did that strike you as odd?”

 

“Of course!” Constance cried. “Dipper Pines is a sweet boy. Not one who’d…do horrible things. Then a gust of wind blew his hat off, and I saw his forehead. It was bare.”

 

“OBJECTION!” I cried. “Mrs. Gleeful, you just made a very important observation. The boy you saw was…definitely not Dipper Pines! You see, Dipper has a very distinctive birthmark on his forehead. Show them, Dipper.”

 

Dipper nodded from the defendant’s chair. He took off his trapper hat, brushed his bangs aside, revealing his Big Dipper birthmark.

 

“OBJECTION!” Gideon snapped. “He could have simply covered that birthmark with foundation, hence why my mother didn’t see it.”

 

“I can’t wear foundation,” Dipper said. “I break out in hives. I developed a sensitivity due to overuse in my childhood.”

 

Trucy giggled. “You wore makeup in your childhood?”

 

“Not willingly,” Dipper answered. “Mabel would use me like one of those busts to try out new looks.”

 

“Oh, don’t complain, you always looked fabulous!” Mabel insisted from the gallery. “Too bad I had to promise your dermatologist I wouldn’t make you up anymore.”

 

“Well, it could have been Mabel,” I said. “She looks like Dipper, especially from a distance. She could have pinned her hair up under the hat.”

 

“OBJECTION!” Gideon cried out, face flushing. “I will not allow you to besmirch the name of such beauty! Even if Mabel is not interested in me, I will protect her honor!”

 

Mabel rolled her eyes.

 

“The contradiction still stands,” I said. “Mrs. Gleeful took a photo of ‘Dipper Pines,’ yet his birthmark is missing and if he had covered it up with foundation, he’d still have some skin irritation. Also, she said he was wearing a trucker hat, and he traded hats with Wendy.”

 

“It’s not like Miss Corduroy’s old hat is glued to his scalp,” Gideon said. “He could have borrowed one of the spare trucker hats from the Mystery Shack and gotten rid of it after the murder.”

 

“But most people associate him with that hat,” I said. “Why would he wear that particular hat? That’s how Mrs. Gleeful identified him. I’ll tell you why. Because that was not Dipper Pines. It was a killer out to frame Dipper, and he wanted Mrs. Gleeful to see him. That’s why he smiled at her! So, she’d remember.”

 

“If this hypothetical killer wanted to frame Dipper Pines,” Gideon retorted. “Why wouldn’t he draw that birthmark on himself to seal the deal?”

 

“The killer didn’t know about the birthmark,” I said. “After all, Dipper keeps his bangs over it most of the time and he doesn’t show it to a lot of people.”

 

“Do you have any physical proof of this so-called ‘real’ killer?” Gideon asked. “Of course, you don’t.”

 

“Well, why aren’t Dipper’s fingerprints on the phone?” I asked. “The phone was not wiped clean, as Sheriff Blubs told me several prints had been lifted off the receiver. None of which were a match to Dipper! And the photo clearly shows ‘Dipper’ touching the phone. So how did he touch it without leaving prints?!”

 

Gideon winced.

 

“I’ll tell you why!” I said, dramatically (as I could) pointing. “Because Dipper never touched that phone!”

 

The gallery murmured.

 

“Blowjob!” Robbie fake-coughed into his fist. Soon his friends were joining in. “Blowjob! Blowjob!”

 

“Order!” McGucket cried, slamming down his gavel.

 

“Say, Gideon, why didn’t you have Constance testify about what happened after she saw Dipper?” Athena asked.  

 

Gideon hesitated. “Well…”

 

Mrs. Gleeful gulped. She pulled a vacuum cleaner out of seemingly nowhere and started vacuuming…the tiled floor.

 

“Mrs. Gleeful,” I said. “Is there more to the story?”

 

She looked to Gideon and her speed of vacuuming increased.

 

“The court wants the whole truth,” I chided her. I’m guessing this has something bad for Gideon. That’s why he didn’t have her bring it up.

 

“All right,” she said, looking at me as if she was trying to keep Gideon out of her peripheral vision. “Dipper ran toward the east side of the park. I thought maybe this was all a big misunderstanding. I didn’t think I could catch up, because, lord that boy can run. I walked toward the park gate, hoping to cut him off. And I saw it. This hulking green…beast hovering over Toby, who had a huge bloody wound on his head. I screamed and fainted. And that’s the last thing I remember.”

 

“Then we have a new suspect,” I said.

 

“Oh, please, my mother was just panicked because she witnessed a murder,” Gideon said. “There is no such beast. That’s why I didn’t have her talk about what happened next. She was just frightened out of her little ol’ head!”

 

More like she’s terrified of little ol’ you.

 

“Yes, there is. I saw it with my own eyes,” Athena said. “The Gremlobin! We need to hear his testimony and solve the mystery of who exactly Mrs. Gleeful saw.”

 

Gideon burst out laughing. “Mr. Wright, do you honestly expect the Gremlobin to obey a subpoena to come testify?”

 

“If he doesn’t, then any verdict would be premature,” I said.

 

“Your Honor stop this farce before it gets any stupider,” Gideon wailed.

 

“No, I agree with Mr. Wright,” Judge McGucket replied. “I’ve met this…Gremlobin. A real nasty critter. Ugly enough to scare a buzzard off a gut pile. I will declare a recess. Sheriff Blubs will look for the Gremlobin. I suggest both prosecution and defense investigate the mystery of the Dipper in this photograph.”

 

Gideon growled, but it was covered up by the sound of McGucket slamming down his gavel.

 

Thirty minutes later, Sheriff Blubs came in. “Mr. Gremlobin came in willingly.” He sounded surprised.

 

The hulking green monster from yesterday entered the courtroom.

 

McGucket screamed.

 

“Can we make this quick?” The Gremlobin said. “I got a thing at noon. I was just in town to pick up my new contacts.”

 

“Um, you’re a lot more articulate than I remember,” Dipper said.

 

“I’ve been attending charm school,” the Gremlobin replied. “I got a good look at myself in the mirror three months ago and had a heart-stopping vision of the worst thing possible.”

 

“And what was that?” I asked. “A second flood? Famine? Plagues of locust everywhere?”

 

“Worse,” the Gremlobin said. “Becoming my father.” He looked toward McGucket, who was cowering behind the judge’s podium. “Oh, hi, Fiddles. Didn’t see you there. How’s ol’ Six Fingers?”

 

McGucket could only reply with little weak squeaks.

 

Geez, what did this thing do to him?

 

Gideon rolled his eyes. “This is a waste of time, Mr. Wright.”

 

“Um, Mister, er…Gremlobin?” I asked. “Do you know why you were summoned here?”

 

“Something to do with my loser cousin,” the Gremlobin said. “That dork thought he was better than all of us just because he had a human mother instead of a beautiful, elegant gremlin mother like mine!”

 

“Um, I’m not following you,” I said.

 

“My cousin. Toby Determined,” Gremlobin said. “Someone offed him, and now you’re sitting around talking when you should be ripping off the killer’s head. But alas, human justice is quite behind gremlin justice.”

 

“Did you see Dipper or Constance at the crime scene?” I asked.

 

“I dunno, all human’s kind of look the same to me,” the Gremlobin replied.

 

I guess that means he wouldn’t be much help in identifying the killer. “Mrs. Gleeful saw you standing over Toby’s body. Can you tell me more about that?”

 

“I was checking Toby’s wallet. Empty as his head,” the Gremlobin said. “I loaned him some money last year. Fortunately, he had a nice gold ring.”

 

“He had a gold ring?” I repeated.

 

“Yeah, it had fallen off, but I can cash it in. If that tightwad owner of Melby’s Pawn Shop ever forgets how many headlocks I put his son in growing up.”

 

“Melby’s Pawn Shop?” I asked.

 

“Yeah, Melby Determined. My uncle. Toby’s old man.” The Gremlobin scratched his side idly.  

 

“Grunkle Stan always did say that guy was a money-grubbing goblin,” Dipper commented. “But I never dared take him literally.”

 

“You should have trusted him more,” Mabel chided.

 

“Mabel, Mabel, Mabel,” Dipper said, shaking his head. “You forget that Grunkle Stan is a compulsive liar. I mean, you once replaced his dentures with magic teeth, so he’d be compelled to tell the truth…”

 

 “Can you show us the ring, um, Gremlobin?” I doubt Toby owned something so fancy. It probably belonged to the killer.

 

“Small problem there,” the Gremlobin said. “I swallowed it for safekeeping.”

 

“We don’t have time to wait for it to pass out the other end,” Wendy declared, getting up from her seat, running to the witness stand, and giving the Gremlobin a massive kick to the stomach.

 

“Wendy! Wendy! Wendy!” chanted Wendy’s friends.

 

McGucket slammed down his gavel. “Order, order!”

 

The Gremlobin shuddered, then…well, there’s no polite way to say this. He barfed, a green tide that never seemed to end. The courtroom filled with a massive stench. Several members of the gallery started to gag. My own eyes began to water.

 

The kid from last night was sitting in the middle of the pile of puke. He looked intact, but his clothing was stained and torn in some places and his eyes were wide open. “I’m gonna gwow up to be a sewial killer.”

 

A gold ring was barely visible in a small puddle of vomit. Colby picked it up with a handkerchief. “We’ll send it to the lab for cleaning. Membrillo, get your sorry can over here!”

 

“Fine,” said Membrillo, more tired than annoyed at Colby’s arrogant tone. “I’ll text both the defense and the prosecution photos of the cleaned evidence. We’re going to need the ultrasonic cleaner for this job.”

 

“We will reconvene tomorrow,” McGucket said. “Court adjourned.” He shuddered and looked away from the Gremlobin.

 

“Objection!” Gideon screamed. “I object! This is…” He apparently got a whiff of the Gremlobin vomitus and turned green. He bent over and ran for fresh air.

 

Man, I do not want to be the courthouse’s janitorial staff right now.

 

XXX

 

We accompanied Dipper back to the Detention Center.

 

“Dipper, we need to ask you about Mrs. Gleeful’s testimony,” I said.

 

“I know,” he said. “But can you talk to me alone?”

 

Athena and Trucy shrugged and left the room.

 

“Dipper, we need to know who Mrs. Gleeful saw,” I said. “Do you have any ideas?”

 

“No,” Dipper said.

 

Time seemed to slow. Chains swirled around him. Two red psyche-locks.

 

I reached into my pocket and clutched my magatama. “Dipper, I think you know who it was.”

 

“It wasn’t Mabel,” Dipper said quickly. “She was with me the whole night.”

 

It wasn’t Dipper. It wasn’t Mabel. “There’s another of you.”

 

Dipper winced as one lock began to quiver. Yes! I’m on the right track.

 

“How could there be another of me?” Dipper asked. “And no, I don’t have a mysterious triplet who was kept separate from Mabel and me for some dramatic and suspicious reason. My parents aren’t that eccentric.”  

 

Well, I don’t know the full significance, but I had to press on. “You see, you looked very serious when you saw the light hairs Dr. Membrillo presented. You know the identity of the False Dipper!”

 

Dipper whimpered, and one lock shattered.

 

“I don’t know the story behind this ‘false Dipper,’ but I think I know why you’re hesitant. It’s because of Wendy, isn’t it?”

 

“How do you know that?” he asked.

 

“Wendy told me that you had a crush on her.”

 

Dipper sighed. The second lock shattered. “The False Dipper…False Dippers. There’s two of them.”

 

I nodded. “Go on.”

 

Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose. “All right, the Mystery Shack had this old copy machine. And you can make almost infinite copies of yourself. When Grunkle Stan threw a party at the Mystery Shack, I was supposed to be taking tickets. I created a clone to cover for me so I could dance with Wendy. And then I had to create more clones to create a scenario in which Wendy fell in love with me. It didn’t exactly work out.”

 

I stared incredulously. “Haven’t you seen any movie with clones?”

 

“I thought I was in control of the situation,” Dipper said. “I figured they wouldn’t turn on me since they melt with water or other liquid. So slight miscalculation on my part.”

 

“So, they turned on you?” I asked.

 

“Of course they did,” Dipper said. “And they fought dirty! I had to melt numbers five through ten in self-defense. Then I reconciled with my first clone, Tyrone, aka Number Two. But then he…” Dipper sniffled. “Accidentally melted himself. I miss him so much.”

 

OK, that kind of borders on narcissism. And maybe incest if you think of ‘Tyrone’ as Dipper’s twin…triplet…whatever. “And what happened to Numbers 3 and 4?”

 

“I asked Numbers 3 and 4 to distract Robbie by stealing his bike,” Dipper explained. “I didn’t see them for a while after that. But then I found them in my closet plotting to take over my life, and then they saw the can of soda in my hand and ran screaming.”

 

“And it was either 3 or 4 that Mrs. Gleeful saw?” I asked.

 

“Yes,” Dipper said. “I suspected when I saw the light hairs. But it got confirmed when Mrs. Gleeful testified. The clones won’t leave fingerprints, since fingerprints are left by body oils and sweat. They also wear hats like the one I used to wear.”

 

“We need to find these clones,” I said. “Any ideas on where to find them?”

 

“They call themselves Tracey and Quattro,” Dipper said. “But I haven’t seen them since they ran out of the Mystery Shack. I’m sorry I didn’t mention them before.”

 

“I mean, having two clones out there who hate your guts?” I said. “That’s almost as ridiculous as being impersonated by a permanently sunburnt loan shark with a Jersey accent.” Dipper looked at me. “Never mind. Look, I know you feel embarrassed by your crush on Wendy. People do stupid things for love. I ate a glass bottle!” My butt instinctively hurt remembering how I pooped out glass shards for three days. “But you need to trust me. One or both of those clones is involved.”

 

“But to kill Toby?” Dipper said. “They’re me. And I wouldn’t kill Toby, even if he was creepy and gross. And to frame me for the murder…I guess they really do hate me.”

 

“Maybe they only framed you,” I said. “There’s evidence they were there. But if you couldn’t lift the rock used to kill Toby, they can’t either, right?”

 

“They _are_ made of paper,” Dipper said. “You believed me when I said I couldn’t lift that stupid rock?”

 

“Of course,” I said. “That test was a trick.”

 

“I wish I knew how Gideon pulled that off,” Dipper commented.

 

By having his flunky rig it somehow? “But we need to find the clones. If they witnessed the murder, the murderer might come after them.”

 

“Again, I can’t help you,” Dipper said. “I’m sorry. Pacifica might have some idea. It was the weirdest thing. She said that she thought she caught a glimpse of me after I returned to Piedmont. I thought it was just her imagination, but maybe she saw one of them.”

 

“That sounds like a good lead,” I said. “Do you mind if I return to my investigation?”

 

He gave me a wan smirk. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

XXX

 

I returned to Trucy and Athena in the Detention Center lobby.

 

“Membrillo sure works fast,” Trucy said, handing her phone to me. He had texted Trucy a photo of the newly cleaned ring. The photo depicted a gold signet ring with a family crest: a stylized NW. There was a second picture of the inner band: the initials N.N. were engraved into the gold.  

 

“The Northwests are involved somehow?” Athena asked.

 

“Rich families, oy,” I said. “As if I didn’t get enough of those back home. The Sprockets, the Malices, the Blackquills, the Mudds…did you know Edgeworth is a Mudd on his mother’s side?”

 

“Well, Uncle Miles is very aristocratic,” Trucy said. “So that doesn’t surprise me.”

 

“By aristocratic, do you mean a pain in the rear?’ I asked. I saw Pacifica coming in through the front door, carrying a bag of food from Burger Barn. (Wow, they’re here too?)  

 

 

Perfect opportunity.

 

“Pacifica,” Athena said. “Would you say your family is very rich?”

 

She arched her eyebrow. “Not as rich as we used to be, but way richer than yours. I live in a penthouse suite.”

 

“Of the Northwest Hotel, right?” I said. “We’re staying there.”

 

“It’s the only other place in town my dad wanted to live after he sold off the Northwest Manor,” Pacifica said. “And why not? It lets my parents do what they do best.”

 

“Which is?” Trucy asked.

 

“Look down on the world,” Pacifica answered. “Why are you asking these questions?”

 

Trucy held up her phone, which still displayed the photograph of the ring the Gremlobin had taken from the crime scene. And subsequently swallowed and…yeah. Let’s try to forget that part, shall we?

 

“That’s our family ring,” Pacifica explained. “You saw my dad wearing his. All the male scions of the Northwest family get that ring, with their initials engraved on the inside band.”

 

“Do the initials N.N. mean anything to you?” I asked.

 

Pacifica’s face clouded over. “Can you excuse me?”

 

“Pacifica,” Athena said calmly. “Do you know something?”

 

“I don’t know anything,” Pacifica snapped. “And it’s really frustrating!”

 

Athena moved in front of her to block her path. “Your heart is crying out in pain,” Athena said. “Please, Pacifica, you have to talk to me. If you know something, we can help…”

 

“You can’t help me,” Pacifica said flatly. “No one can.”

 

“We are lawyers,” I said. “We can sue anyone who tries to make trouble for us.”

 

She laughed. “The last lawyer who tried to help me ended up disbarred.” She tried to push past Athena, who let her pass, though obviously reluctantly.

 

“Hey, guys,” Wendy said, coming in from the doorway. “I’ll be accompanying you on your investigation today. Oh, and did you like, touch Pacifica with off-brand clothing or something? She ran past me, crying. I tried to ask her what was wrong, but she just brushed me off.” She shrugged.

 

“Well, we have a new lead,” I said. “The Dipper Mrs. Gleeful photographed is actually a clone Dipper made during his summer here.” I had no intention of telling Wendy _why_ Dipper cloned himself, to save the poor kid some embarrassment.  

 

Luckily, she didn’t press further. “Yeah, I forgot to mention that. You know how I used to work for Dipper’s Uncle Stan? Well, Stan has a twin brother, Dr. Pines. And he’s a genuine mad scientist. So that Dipper reactivated some sort of old cloning machine doesn’t surprise me. And if you meet Dr. Pines, don’t call him Stan #2. He lectured me for ten minutes about being born first. I think. I wasn’t really listening. Let’s go.”

 

We stepped outside.

 

“So where to first?” Athena asked me.

 

There was Mabel’s psyche-locks. And the copy machine Dipper mentioned. I also could follow up on the lead that Pacifica had seen Tracey or Quattro, but she was clearly upset about the ring and I didn’t want to push her…

 

Not to mention that smarmy little bailiff, Colby Roquefort. As well as the mysterious Rona Round.

 

A drop of water fell on my head. I looked at the sky. It was still bright.

 

Wendy for once looked flustered. “The Chubascos! We’ve got to get to high ground! NOW!”

 

“It’s just a little rain,” Athena said. “Nothing to worry about…”

 

“No, we’ve been dealing with flash floods ever since summer ended,” Wendy explained. “Follow me!” We ran after her, toward the docks. She was fast, and even the athletic Athena was panting.

 

Wendy jumped into a docked motorboat and used her axe to slice through the rope mooring it to the dock. The rope snapped like a rubber band under the heavy blade. “Get in!”

 

“Isn’t this technically stealing?” Trucy asked.

 

“There’s no time!” Wendy insisted.

 

I looked back. Indeed, there was a surge of water heading straight toward us. Athena, Trucy, and I obeyed Wendy and jumped into the motorboat as Wendy started the engine.

 

To Be Continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, “Everything that guy says is BS” is a ref to My Cousin Vinny, which I think of as Phoenix Wright, Ace Attorney if Phoenix and Maya were vulgar New Yorkers.  
> Yes, Phoenix kind of seems like a jerk when he wonders what Gremlobin did to McGucket. Poor McGucket…  
> Yes, Membrillo is a Special Guest Character from Grim Fandango. I picked the name Tristán because of his gloominess. It’s the Spanish variant of Tristan, which is derived from triste, meaning sad. Membrillo is the Spanish word for quince, a tart fruit with a bitter aftertaste, which was such a perfect name for Membrillo. He was always my favorite in Grim Fandango, and it was a joy to import him into the world of Gravity Falls. Where…honestly, he’d fit right in.  
> I’m going to compile a name significance index, but the pun on Constance’s name is “constantly gleeful.”


	4. Investigation 2 Part 1

And now we’re back to where we started: Athena, Trucy, Wendy, and me in a small motorboat, trying desperately not to capsize against these massive waves that came out of nowhere. 

And we messed up the Gravity Falls sign while we were at it. But we already stole the motorboat, so what’s a little wanton property destruction? They can just…bill me later. Sigh. 

The boat came to a stop as the water receded. 

Athena had lost her blue ribbon in the panic and her ponytail was loose. Her hair was a mess. “What on earth was that?” 

Trucy luckily had managed to hold onto her silk hat, which I thanked the stars for. That hat was expensive. 

“There are these little water sprites,” Wendy explained. “They’re called the Chubascos.” 

“Cherubs?” Trucy asked. 

“Nah, they’re not cute at all,” Wendy said. “They have their mating season every two years, and they like it wet.” 

“Who doesn’t?” I said. 

“They make it rain,” Wendy continued. “And not in the fun way.” 

“But that was a huge amount of rainfall in a tiny amount of time,” Athena argued. “It’s just not natural!” 

“Yeah, there used to be a secret society,” Wendy explained. “They were called the Society of the Blind Eye. But we defeated them. Until recently, they were suppressing knowledge of the weird things that happen in this town. And everyone used to think the heavy rains every two years was just normal for Oregon. It’s Gravity Falls.” She shrugged. “The people here are not known for their brains. The smartest guy in town was Dr. Pines, and he was from New Jersey.” 

Well, there is that classic joke. Why did California get all the lawyers and New Jersey got all the toxic waste? New Jersey picked first. Yeah, I’ve heard all the evil lawyer jokes. 

“Tell you what,” Wendy said. “I’ll take the boat back to the docks. You guys go back to your hotel and change out of those wet clothes. I’ll meet you back at the shack in an hour.” 

Yeah, October weather in Oregon was no fun with wet clothes, so I conceded the point. So, we headed for the Northwest Hotel. 

We were just approaching the hotel when we ran into Judge McGucket. He had taken off his unfortunately lively wig and judge’s robe and was now wearing some worn coveralls. His feet were wrapped in bandages instead of shoes. Wait…was that gold thread in the linen? Do I even want to know? 

“Hi, Judge McGucket,” Athena said. 

“What a polite girl you are,” McGucket said. “How’s the investigation going?” 

“We have a lot of leads,” I said. “We just got waylaid by the Chubascos.” 

“Yeah, they seem to want to give us old and new-monia,” McGucket said. “I ought to build an instant de-humidifier, but that would take away from my killer robots. I’m about to file a patent on an updated version of Rock Em Sock Em robots.” 

“Being a judge is just a hobby for you?” Trucy asked. 

“Yeah, my son insisted,” McGucket said. “Said I need to set a good example for the grandchildren. I’m glad I was able to help Dipper, though.” 

“Though you could have been a little more helpful,” Trucy said. 

“I couldn’t favor your side,” McGucket said. “People would get suspicious. There’s a conspiracy here against Dipper Pines. I’m sure you’ve noticed.” 

“Do you know who’s behind it?” I asked. 

McGucket shook his head. “Nope. I just know a thing or two ‘bout conspiracies. I founded a secret society once, you know. I completely forgot about it, but still.”

The man from earlier, who wore the mayor sash and the shirts made from two shirts sewn together as well as impossibly short shorts, approached. “Hallo there.” 

“May I present Mayor Tyler Cutebike,” McGucket said. 

“Oh, you,” Mayor Cutebike replied, blushing slightly. “How do you like it in our little town, Mr. Wright?” 

“It’s quiet, and everyone seems nice,” I said. 

“Good,” Mayor Cutebike said. “I’m afraid I have bad news to report.” 

“What?” I asked. 

“The stenographer is sick,” Mayor Cutebike explained. “But don’t worry. I was able to find a replacement on short notice!” He waved to a guy across the street, who was holding a nest in one arm reverently. A woodpecker was on his shoulder. 

“…That guy with the woodpecker is the new stenographer?” Athena asked. Widget was flashing yellow. 

“No, the woodpecker is the stenographer,” the mayor said. 

“A woodpecker as stenographer?” I said. “That’s as ridiculous as executing defense attorneys just for doing their job.” Or cross-examining a parrot or a crazy assassin via radio, but I digress. 

“I’ll have you know Wanda is quite capable!” The man holding the nest said. He turned to the bird. “It’s all right, dearie. He didn’t mean it! Yes, I’m aware he has a hedgehog on his head. It’s probably a fashion statement down south…” 

I sighed. Further argument with this guy was clearly going to go nowhere. We said our goodbyes to the mayor and McGucket and proceeded into the hotel where we changed into dry clothes. 

We returned to the lobby. Athena was now wearing the rainbow ribbon Mabel gave her the day before in her hair. 

“I suppose we can first try Pacifica,” I said. I walked to the front desk. “Is Pacifica Northwest home?” The front desk attendant buzzed the penthouse. “Spiky headed guy in a blue suit here to see you, Miss Northwest.” I didn’t hear the response. “One moment, please.” 

A few minutes passed. 

The door opened, but Pacifica’s father walked in instead of Pacifica herself. He put on an obviously-fake smile. “Mr. Phoenix Wright! Just the man I wanted to see.” 

Uh oh. Yeah, whenever someone addresses me by that title, it usually means something bad is going to happen. Case in point: whenever Franziska calls me that. 

“Mr. Northwest,” I said. 

“Please, call me Preston,” he replied. 

OK, he definitely wants something. “All right, Preston,” I said. I figured I could tell him he could cut the smoozing. “You know who I am, and I know who you are. So what do you want from me?” 

He was unfazed by my curt reply. “Very well. I wish to hire you.” 

“I’m sure you have a bunch of lawyers working for you,” I said. “Why do you want me?” 

“Let me clarify: I want you to drop Dipper Pines’ case. Immediately.” 

“Why?” I asked. 

“That little peasant has been thinking naughty thoughts about my daughter!” Preston said. “And worse, she is too sensitive to tell him to leave her alone. He’s not even worthy to lick her shoes.” 

“So you want to hire Daddy so you can order him to drop Dipper’s case,” Trucy began. “Just because Dipper hit on your daughter?” 

“Yes,” Preston said. “Of course, I am not so uncouth as to deny you payment. I am willing to pay double your usual fee.” 

“I refuse,” I said. 

Preston again was unperturbed. “Triple?” 

“No,” I said. 

“How about I give you a signed check, and you write in your price?” Preston said. “Just don’t cash it until next week.” He chuckled nervously. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t be bought,” I said. 

“Very well,” Preston said. I was expecting him to pull the ‘do you know who I am’ act. “I suppose any further discussion would be wasting my time.” 

“Yes, it would be,” I said. 

“Your kind doesn’t know when to quit,” he said. “Do you realize I could ruin you?” 

Ah. There it was. That smug superiority. 

And for some reason, my temper flared. “OBJECTION!” I stood up as straight as I could. “Don’t make me laugh. I’ve faced down a queen, a corrupt Chief of Police, an insane Type A Plus personality armed with a taser, a smug blackmailer with hooks in almost everyone, and a mysterious superspy. I’ve been humiliated, disgraced, and disbarred. I’ve had hot coffee thrown in my face, I’ve been scratched by a hawk, and I’ve been whipped to the point of passing out. Your money and your threats don’t care me. You disgust me. You’re so morally bankrupt that you’re trying to get me to abandon an innocent kid just because he likes your daughter.” 

“I suppose it was too much to ask for you to understand what being a father demands,” Preston said. “I have to protect Pacifica.” 

“I am a father!” I retorted. 

Preston snorted. “Just because you took pity on some ragamuffin whose father kicked her to the curb doesn’t make you a father.” 

“But…” Tears sprang to Trucy’s eyes. Athena hugged her and glared at Preston, Widget flashing red in her necklace. 

“Insult me all you want, Mr. Northwest,” I said. “But leave my daughter out of it.” 

“This is my hotel, which means I’m the one giving orders,” he replied coolly. “Go pack your bags and return your room keys to the front desk. And don’t bother looking for another hotel in town. I made sure to buy out all the competing ones long ago.” 

“Big deal,” Athena said. “This town is filled with pristine camping land.” 

“And filled with monsters,” Preston said. “Since the summer, we’ve lost six tourists to the Gobblewonker alone. And if you get eaten before tomorrow, Dipper Pines will be found guilty anyway, so it’s your move, Mr. Wright. If you apologize and agree to my terms, I’ll let you stay. I’m feeling nice, so I’ll even refund your room fee in addition.” 

“We’re leaving,” I said. “And you can go to hell.” 

“Been there, done that,” he said simply. 

I guess he isn’t wrong. That Weirdmageddon thing did sound hellish, to the point it can’t even be spoken about openly in town. But still… 

XXX

“OK, now what?” I asked Trucy and Athena once we had piled into our rental car with our suitcases. 

“Why did that man say such mean things about me?” Trucy asked, tears still in her eyes. 

“Because rich people think they can do and say whatever they want,” I replied. “Not just the Northwests. Just take the Blackquills.” 

“The Blackquills aren’t that bad,” Athena said, Widget flashing yellow with her surprise at my statement. 

“Simon Blackquill swore an oath to protect you, and even gave up seven years of freedom and his own reputation,” I said. “But he still let his pet hawk dive-bomb you. And have you forgotten Aura took Trucy hostage?!” 

“Not her fault the Phantom killed my mom,” Athena replied. 

She didn’t hear what Blackquill said he’d do to me if anything happened to Athena when we went to Khura’in. Plenty of death threats. Some of which were quite graphic. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if rumors had circulated that Blackquill killed somebody before he was falsely accused of the murder of Metis Cykes. They didn’t call him the Twisted Samurai for nothing. But Blackquill’s not the immediate problem here…

My phone rang. I checked the number. A local one. Tentatively, I hit the answer button. 

“You better have a darn good explanation for this!” Gideon’s southern twang met my ears. 

“This?” I repeated. 

“Preston Northwest just called me, saying you refused his request to drop the case.” Gideon sounded annoyed. 

“And you’re mad about that?” I asked. 

“No, I’m mad because you’re making waves,” Gideon snapped. “And that Preston Northwest thinks he can order me around. He offered me a ridiculous bribe to ‘work hard and smart and win this case.’ Of course, I told him to take a good long walk off a good short pier. The Gleefuls don’t take orders from arrogant frauds like the Northwests.” 

Because the Gleefuls are arrogant frauds themselves? I guess it would take one to know one. But I held back my tongue. “Nice to know you refused the bribe.” 

“What, you think little ol’ me would take a bribe?” Gideon asked. “I said I would beat you fair and square, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I need you and Yellow McHappy Bow to not anger someone rich enough to hire an assassin on you. I need you alive for court.” 

“Would he hire an assassin?” I asked. I guess it’d be nothing new. I’ve been held at gunpoint…

“There’s all sorts of unsavory rumors about Preston Northwest,” Gideon said. “Like that his chocolate factory uses the tears of destitute orphans to flavor the chocolate. Or that he had someone locked up in the local insane asylum and has had all records and memories of that person erased. Again, watch your back. At least until after the verdict. Then you can get your silly self killed for all I care.” 

And with that, Gideon hung up. 

I wish he had stayed on the line long enough for me to ask about Colby Roquefort. But then, given Roquefort’s obvious distaste toward Gideon, their relationship is strictly professional. 

But wait. Preston imprisoned someone in the local insane asylum? And erased their existence? Gideon might have inadvertently given me something I could work with. Preston could easily bribe the news outlets not to release information about this person should that person escape. And lo, someone did escape the insane asylum. 

Not to mention Pacifica’s reaction to the initials on the Northwest ring! 

“We still need a place to stay,” I said. “Let’s meet up with Wendy and Soos at the Mystery Shack to strategize.” And maybe I’ll be able to break Mabel’s psyche-locks. 

Soos greeted us as we pulled into the Mystery Shack parking lot. He had changed from his suit into shorts and a green t-shirt with a question mark painted on it. “Glad to see you dudes. I think Mabel is, like, stress-eating. I noticed some of the food in the fridge and pantry was missing. And stuff was moved around to make it look like less was missing. And my Abuelita’s favorite telenovela is having a marathon this week, so I have to set alarms to remind her to eat. It wasn’t her. Can you go check on Mabel and see if you can cheer her up? Wendy just got here too.” 

We entered the shack and met up with Wendy, then proceeded to the kitchen. 

“Aww, what a cute tea set,” Athena looked at the little kid-size porcelain tea set on the counter. The set was white, with pink roses painted on the teapot and cups. 

“I used to have one of these,” Wendy commented. “Except my brother smashed the cups.” 

“I’m sorry he’s so clumsy,” Trucy said. 

“Nah, he did it on purpose,” Wendy said. “For some reason, smashing stuff was the funniest thing in the world. He’s why we had to switch to melamine plates and plastic drinking glasses.” 

One of the cups had Mabel’s pink lip gloss on the rim. I peeked into the cup. There were dregs of tea in that cup and one other one. Hmm. 

Mabel walked in, cell phone tucked between her shoulder and her cheek. She was stirring a bowl of bright red…something with partially dissolved candy dinosaurs. “So Grunkle Ford, how do you make holy water again?” She was now wearing a pink sweater that read ‘I like you very much’ along with her lavender skirt and some cute white shoes. 

“I know this one!” a voice came from the other end. “You take regular water and boil the hell out of it!” 

“Stanley!” came a different voice on the other end. 

Mabel looked up at us. “I’ll call you back.” She set the bowl on the counter and hit the end call button on the phone. “Hi. Want some fresh Mabel Juice?” 

“Sure,” Athena said. “We’ll take three cups.” 

“No thanks,” said Wendy. “I’d rather not be bouncing off the walls all night.” 

Mabel quickly poured three cups and handed them to us. 

I sniffed the mysterious mixture. It smelled like overripe fruit. Fruit that didn’t exist on this planet. I began scanning the room for a potted plant to dump it in. 

Trucy drank from her cup and I felt both vindicated and worried at her nauseated expression when she swallowed. 

Athena, however, took a sip of her cup. And then chugged the rest. “You gonna finish that?” She asked me. I happily handed her the cup of obviously artificially flavored brew. What can I say? Girl has a cast-iron stomach. 

“Mabel, I have to ask you again,” I said. “Did you see anything odd the night of the murder?” 

“Nothing happened,” she replied. The five psyche-locks appeared. 

I clutched the magatama in my suit pocket. “Mabel, you’re hiding something,” I said. 

“No, I’m not,” she insisted. 

OK. Hardball. I’ve got five locks to break. And this girl is clearly stubborn as hell. Deep breaths, Phoenix. You’ve got this. “Why were you behaving so strangely in the diner that morning?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Um, my brother got arrested right in front of me?! Of course, I’d freak out.” 

“No, you were acting erratically before Dipper’s arrest. I saw you. You hid behind your menu, you gulped when Sheriff Blubs came closer. You thought he was there for you!” 

Mabel gasped. One lock shattered into nothing. 

“Well, you can’t blame me for being nervous,” Mabel said quickly. “I did make half of Piedmont sick. The police yelled at me for hours, so it’s left me with a fear of authority figures.” 

You irradiated your school and the surrounding area. I would say that goes above making them sick. But I had to press on. “You’re not hiding something, but someone.”

“And what proof do you have of that?!” Mabel snapped. 

“The tea set next to the sink. Two of the cups were dirty. You didn’t have time to wash them.” 

“I poured a cup for myself, then one for Dipper out of pure habit,” she said. “When I realized what I did, I just drank them both!” 

“You’re lying,” I said. “Only one cup had your pink lip gloss on the rim. You only drank from that cup. Who drank the other one?” 

“Meep,” Mabel said. Another lock shattered. “Well, who would I be hiding?” 

This was more tricky. I didn’t have any definite proof. “You were trying to keep Soos from finding out you were sneaking food from the kitchen. And you kept Grenda and Candy from sleeping over. You’re hiding someone you don’t want your friends to know about.” 

Another lock broke. “Do you know who this mysterious person is?” Mabel asked. 

“How about we make a wager?” I asked. “If I can guess his initials right, you tell me everything.” 

She smirked. “Well, the odds are like one in a bajillion.” 

“More like one in a thousand, right?” Trucy asked. “Still rather low odds to be guessing randomly.” 

“Exactly,” Mabel said, beaming and showing off her braces. 

“All right,” I said. This was a gamble. But based on the secrecy surrounding the insane asylum inmate, Pacifica’s reaction to the ring found at the crime scene, and the ominous pall the Northwests have cast on this town, I had to push forward. “N.N.?” 

“No way,” Mabel’s face contorted in rage. “Who told you?!” One lock shattered. 

I would have expected both locks to shatter, but I had obviously broken through. “And your new boyfriend is the escaped asylum inmate. Admit it!” 

Mabel shrieked, her long curly hair flying out behind her and frizzing into a giant tangled mass as the final lock broke. “Everything I said, you just had a perfect answer. I guess I can’t fool you, Mr. Wright.” The chains faded away. 

“So you are hiding the insane asylum inmate?” I asked. 

“He’s not crazy,” Mabel insisted. “His father just went around telling everyone he was! Because he’s a meany-butt!” 

“Would a crazy person admit they’re crazy, though?” Trucy asked. 

“It’s not like I did anything bad!” Mabel said. 

Wendy palmed her face. “Didn’t do anything bad? Mabel, you harbored a fugitive!” 

“He’s really kind and gentle,” Mabel said. “Could you at least meet him before you judge him?” 

“That sounds reasonable,” I said. “Could we?” 

Mabel sighed. “Follow me.” 

She led us down the hall to a small room. She knocked on the door. “Um, can you come out?” 

The door opened, and a boy of about thirteen years old stepped out. 

“So you’re the escapee from the psych ward?” Wendy asked. 

“I am,” said the boy. He was wearing gray pants that were presumably borrowed from Dipper’s closet, as well as a sweater. I could tell the sweater belonged to Mabel, as it was gold with cream-colored llamas as decorations. His shoes were black leather loafers, and I think they were from the same Italian company that makes Edgeworth’s overpriced shoes. 

Oh, yeah, the boy also looked like a younger version of Preston Northwest. 

He bowed. “Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Northby Northwest.” 

I extended my hand. 

“I beg your pardon,” Northby replied. “The Northwests don’t shake hands.” 

“Why? Because you’ll get contaminated by us ‘common folk’?” Wendy asked dryly. 

“No,” Northby said. “Apparently, one of my ancestors made a bad deal, and my family’s never shaken hands since. I suppose that’s why others are suspicious of my family, or perhaps it’s because we’re severely dysfunctional and evil.” 

“So you’re Pacifica’s brother?” Wendy asked. 

“Yes,” Northby said. “I’m older by one week.” 

“You’re twins?” Soos asked. 

“No,” Northby said. “Pacifica and I were conceived through in-vitro fertilization. My father wanted to be completely certain we were his. Our embryos were also implanted into two different surrogates. My mother didn’t want stretch marks.”

“So why were you in an insane asylum?” Soos asked. “You sound normal to me, dude.” 

“My father had me involuntarily committed,” Northby answered. “He and I had an argument. I ended up slapping the idiotic bell he’s used to train Pacifica like Pavlov’s dogs out of his hand.” 

“Again: total meany butt,” Mabel added. 

“Recently, my father lost a lot of money,” Northby continued. “I thought if Pacifica and I escaped and we re-opened our case, my father wouldn’t have enough money to bribe the state bar and the judges like last time.” 

“Last time?” Trucy asked. 

“Yes,” Northby said. “When I was ten, I hired a child advocate lawyer and tried to get my sister and I emancipated. The legal age of emancipation is sixteen, but exceptions can be made on grounds of abuse. But my father bribed the judges to dismiss the case. He also made up some false charges to the state bar and got my lawyer disbarred. I tried to hire another lawyer, but they all hung up on me.”

“Could we contact your old lawyer?” Athena asked. 

“No,” Northby said. “He killed himself four months after he was disbarred.” 

There was dead silence. None of us knew how to respond to that. Northby himself wrung his hands and was obviously feeling guilty and uncomfortable. 

Thankfully, Wendy changed the subject. “So how did you escape the asylum?” She asked. “Did you tunnel out using only a spoon?” 

“I’ve made several escape attempts over the past three years,” Northby admitted. “Once I managed to sneak out an unbarred window and climb onto the roof. But I was trying to cross a slanted area of the roof, and it had rained recently, so I ended up slipping.” He blushed. “I actually didn’t escape on my own. My fellow inmates helped me. They said I didn’t belong in there with them, so they smuggled me out in a body bag.” 

“That’s awfully rational for insane asylum inmates,” Wendy observed. 

“Yeah,” Soos said. “Maybe they’re the normal ones and we’re the crazy ones. Are the walls really made of rubber? Can you, like, bounce off them?” 

“I have been considering working a straitjacket into my act,” Trucy said. “Think I could borrow one of theirs?” 

“The Trembley Home for Those Who Don’t Fit Society’s Irrationally High Standards for Sanity didn’t use straitjackets,” Northby said. 

“Trembley, as in our real founder?” Wendy asked. “That guy got everywhere.” 

“Mr. Trembley told me that he set up the insane asylum,” Mabel explained. “Just in case someone tried to get him committed. He actually still writes snail mail! With a quill!” 

“Isn’t that kind of rational of Trembley, though?” Trucy asked. “Maybe he wasn’t as crazy…” 

“The guy filled the Supreme Court with babies,” Wendy said. “Trust me, he was nutzoid.” 

“They worked for free milk, though,” Soos said. 

“He refused to wear pants!” Wendy said. 

“Well, he wore a wool suit every day,” Soos reasoned. “It got hot, and they didn’t have A/C back then…” 

“He made marrying woodpeckers legal,” Wendy said. 

“Well, Mr. Woodpecker is very happy with Wanda,” Soos said. “I mean, who are we to judge?” 

“Ugh, I give up,” Wendy said. 

“Continue your story,” Mabel said. “We’re going to need to get our ‘how we met’ story perfect by the time we get engaged.” 

“Engaged?!” Northby asked. “We just met…” He was cut off by Mabel embracing him in a hug that looked more like one of those squeezing machines autistic children put themselves in to relieve anxiety. He looked toward me, as to say help me. 

Nope. Not touching this one. 

“So what happened after the body bag?” Wendy asked. 

Mabel released Northby.

Northby continued his narrative. “I climbed out of the body bag after it was delivered to the morgue. I startled the town coroner.” 

“Dr. Membrillo?” I asked. “What did he say?” 

“He just made a dry comment on how there might be life after death,” Northby answered. “I know he knew just who I was. I begged him not to tell anyone. He told me there must be some nefarious reason that no one ever mentions a son of Preston Northwest, despite the photo spreads in the society magazines, and that he wasn’t going to be party to it. And I believed him that he wouldn’t report my disappearance. The Trembley Home, well…” 

“The doctors at the Trembley Home must have known you weren’t actually crazy,” Trucy snapped. “How could they keep you locked up? That’s so cruel.” 

“I think being cruel is like a requirement for working in an insane asylum,” Soos commented. “I’ve seen plenty of movies and documentaries.” 

“It really wasn’t like that,” Northby said. “The director and the staff were very kind to me. They gave me both traditional and art therapy, which has helped with my nightmares. I asked the director if he could clear me to leave, and he refused. Both because my father could bribe the state board to shut the hospital down and because I had unresolved trauma.” 

“If it was so nice, why did you try to escape? Multiple times?” Wendy asked. 

“I was worried about my sister,” Northby answered. “I wasn’t allowed to write her. I also didn’t have phone privileges. My only visitor was my father, who’d come on occasion to try to browbeat me into indulging his every whim. He even ordered the staff to put me in four-point restraints every time he visited. He claimed it was because he was afraid I’d be violent, but I think he just wanted to demonstrate his power over me. The last few times he visited, he seemed more agitated. He told me about the family finances. That he had to sell the manor just to stay afloat. I thought I had a chance to convince Pacifica to try to gain our independence. It…didn’t work out.” 

“And you haven’t contacted her?” Athena asked. “She’s worried about you. I saw her reaction myself.” 

“My father has her cell phone bugged,” Northby said. “I found that out when I tried to call her.” He hesitated. “I tried going to one of the Northwest factories in town. I told the workers that if they could help me get in touch with a lawyer, I would raise their salaries to an actual living wage. They refused, saying that the Northwests’ promises were like piecrust. I had to lose them by claiming I saw EPA trucks coming into town, and that my father didn’t have the money to bribe them anymore, so he was just going to pay the fines and take them out of the workers’ salaries. My bluff worked, because they ran around in a panic trying to destroy or hide the evidence of their illegal dumping.” 

Wendy snorted. “Destroy or hide the evidence? Who do they think they’re fooling? Everyone knows the Northwest factories have been dumping illegal waste since they opened. It’s not really a big secret.” 

“After fleeing the factory,” Northby continued. “I didn’t know what to do. By then, my father had Sheriff Blubs and that dingbat deputy of his looking for me. They almost caught me, too. I hid in a hollow tree trunk. And they got…distracted.” 

“Distracted?” I repeated. 

“They started kissing and making weird noises,” Northby explained. 

Soos chuckled. Wendy, Athena, and I looked away, embarrassed. Trucy gave her little impish smirk. 

“I’ve been resting in ditches and hiding wherever I can,” Northby said. “The troll that lives under the Custard Road bridge gave me some good risotto, but I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. When Mabel found me, I was covered in dirt. Yet, she gave me shelter.” 

“When was this?” I asked. 

“The night before Dipper was arrested,” Mabel said. “I went to buy some candy for my Mabel Juice. I bought my candy at the convenience store next to the take-out restaurant, and the boy of my dreams just walked in. He collapsed in front of me, telling me he had to get away. I helped him get into the bed of Soos’ truck and hide under a tarp. And when we returned to the Mystery Shack with the food, I smuggled him into the bathroom while we were eating along with a fresh set of clothes. And while Soos was doing Facetime with Melody and Dipper was watching Ghost Harassers, I slipped him into the break room. Since Soos took over as Mr. Mystery, he’s been busy for most of the day, so the break room is usually empty.” Mabel beamed. “Isn’t it romantic?” 

Would she help just anyone who was covered in dirt? And then there was that piece of evidence…

“Trucy, show him the photo of the ring,” I said.

Trucy took out her phone and pulled up the photo of the ring. 

“It’s your ring, isn’t it?” I asked. 

Northby looked down at his bare hands. “…Yes. It fell off.” 

“Isn’t it, like, too big?” Soos asked. 

“My father had it commissioned in his own ring size. He said my finger would grow to fit it. That I’d grow up to be just like him. I wore a silicone adjuster, but it slipped off too.” Northby absently rubbed the ring finger of his left hand. 

“Northby,” Athena said. “This ring was found near Toby Determined’s body. This means you were at the murder scene.” 

“I was,” he said. 

“So you could totally be the murderer,” Soos said. 

“He’s not!” Mabel insisted. 

“Did you see anything at the murder scene?” I asked Northby. “The slightest detail could be important.” 

He gazed downward. “My apologies, but I can’t help you.” 

Again, chains materialized in midair, but this time the clanking sounded heavier. Five black psyche-locks materialized with five miniature bangs. 

I felt a chill run down my spine. There was a palpable sense of terror roiling off those psyche-locks. 

According to Pearls, black psyche-locks cover deep-seated secrets, secrets so deep that they can’t be recalled consciously, and trying to force them open can cause unrepairable damage to a soul. “Athena,” I said. “Private meeting.” I pulled her away from the group. 

“What’s the matter, boss?” Athena asked. 

I told her about the black psyche-locks and summarized what I knew about them. 

“Oh, those psychic-clock things,” she said. “I can tell he’s carrying a huge burden.” 

“Like killing someone and pinning it on someone else?” I asked. “He could be the murderer.” 

“I don’t think so,” Athena said. “I hear regret in his voice. And there’s also a lot of fear and worry.”

“Well, we can’t force him to remember. I think the best thing is to do what we did in the UR-1 retrial. Mood matrix and gradually ease him into the memory. Then the memory should rise to the surface and the psyche-locks will break on their own.” 

Athena nodded and flashed a peace sign, Widget flashing cheery green. “You can count on me!” 

Athena and I returned to the group. 

“Northby, Athena and I have decided,” I said. “We won’t call the police. But we need you to come with us to court tomorrow and testify. You are a witness.” 

“And this is to help Dipper Pines?” Northby asked. 

“Of course,” I said. “We need to unearth the truth, and to do that, we need to know the whole story.” 

“I want to help you,” Northby said hesitantly. “But the entire town is watching this trial, and my father will find out where I am if I were to testify. My father can’t find out where I am…” 

“Tell them what you told me!” Mabel said. 

Northby looked surprised at her. “I told you that in confidence.” 

“Well, I’m not telling them, so you have to,” Mabel retorted. “Please.” She widened her eyes to almost anime proportions. 

Northby sighed, apparently unable to resist cute eyes. “Very well. When I was very young, I had a habit of squirming. When my family had to pose for a portrait, I couldn’t sit still. The painter complained, so my father told me to not be in the portrait. I watched the painter, and that sparked my interest in painting. But after the painter left, my father told me I was going to learn to hold still. And…” he stopped. “I’m sorry. It’s difficult to discuss this. My father would take a rope, fashion one end into a noose, and put it around my neck. Then he’d take the other end of the rope and tie my wrists and sometimes my ankles in such a way that if I moved too much, the noose would tighten around my neck. Usually he’d tie me to a chair.” 

Silence fell again. I looked at Athena. She looked ready to chew nails, and Widget was bright red. Some steam was coming out of Widget’s vents. 

“I wish I could say I know how you feel, dude,” Soos said quietly. “But I don’t. My dad just abandoned me. Yours is…” He obviously didn’t want to finish the sentence. 

“Why didn’t your mother do anything?!” Trucy demanded angrily. 

“She was too conked out on Ativan to notice, let alone care,” Northby answered. Tears streamed down his face. “I was such a coward. I considered strangling myself with the noose, but I thought of Pacifica. And I realized I couldn’t leave her in my father’s hands, no matter how miserable things got.” 

“Which is exactly what happened,” Wendy pointed out dryly. 

“I don’t want to fail her again,” Northby said. “If I get caught, it’s over. For both of us.” 

“We’ll protect you,” Athena insisted. “I may not be a child advocate lawyer, but if your father wants you, he’ll have to go through me.” 

And me. I became a defense attorney to protect those who can’t protect themselves. I would say an abuse victim falls under that. Besides, I’m already on Preston Northwest’s shit list for refusing to cave to his demand to stop representing Dipper in court. I’ll have to get Northby a copy of Sebastian Debeste’s bestselling self-help book When Your Dad is a Prick. Franziska wrote the foreword. But first, we needed to get through the night. “Preston Northwest kicked us out of the Northwest Hotel,” I explained. “We need to find some place to stay.” 

“One of the girls can stay with me,” Wendy said. “My bed’s a double.” 

“I’ll go with Wendy,” Athena decided. 

“Dr. Pines used to sleep on the break room couch,” Soos said. “Mr. Wright, you could take the couch.” 

“Northby can sleep in Dipper’s bed, since they’re the same size,” Mabel added. 

“I couldn’t,” Northby said. “That’s imposing too much. I can sleep on the floor.” 

“Don’t be silly,” Mabel said. “I insist! I do have to change the sheets, though. Dipper sweats…well, I’d say like a pig, but Waddles is a pig and he sweats way less than Dipper! Oh, and I have a sleeping bag Trucy could borrow.” 

I guess that settles it. “We’ve only got a few hours before nightfall,” I said. “I said we split up and…” 

I was interrupted by the doorbell. 

Soos opened the door. 

Grenda and Candy ran in, out of breath. Candy was clutching a cute pink laptop bag. 

“We found a clue!” Grenda announced. “A really big clue!” 

“So have we,” I said. 

To be continued


	5. Investigation 2 Part 2

Candy opened her laptop bag and pulled out a small lavender notebook computer. It was decorated with cute little stickers, likely donated by Mabel, of wrapped candies. “I remembered Gideon managed to hide little cameras inside promotional lapel pins. So I managed to make a few recording devices that could transmit wirelessly to the cloud and hid one in the D.A.’s office.” 

Grenda beamed proudly. “And I distracted Mr. Strange while she hid the bug! Yeah, I disguised myself as a scout selling cookies.” She held out a piece of paper. “Mr. Strange ordered twelve boxes of Georgia Grins.” 

Candy hit a button on the laptop. 

“I didn’t think you’d put Fiddleford McGucket in charge of the trial behind my back,” came a female voice. It sounded like an adult. 

Tad’s voice answered, “Phoenix Wright is a well-known lawyer. If word about this trial gets out, we’ll have the entire legal field looking in on us. And then someone might find out there’s no record of a Judge Libra before you arrived here in Gravity Falls.”

“That’s Judge Libra’s voice?” Trucy asked. 

Tad spoke again. “Are you displeased?” 

“No,” came Libra’s voice. “I trust you. I just wish you’d trust me more. I wish you could tell me about the past.”

“What I did back in the flat days is not your concern.” For the first time, Tad’s voice sounded angry. 

“If you still don’t wish to speak of it, I’ll let you be,” Libra said. “But I must remind you that you cannot fully come to terms to with your pain until you’ve left your past woes behind.” 

“Do you mind if I ask why you’re so eager to make sure the Pines boy dies?” Tad’s voice came. “I thought you hated the girl twin. Why should her brother die for her folly?” 

“Simply put, I don’t want her to die before she truly regrets her sins. Her brother is a perfect price. Besides, he has a lot to answer for himself. That zombie infestation, for one. The Pines seem to have an unnaturally good amount of luck. To have the legendary Phoenix Wright on their side.” 

“Are you worried that we’ll lose?” Tad asked. 

“It would be a disappointment if we lost,” Libra said. “But I’ve learned to take the long view of things. I’m more worried about the Roquefort boy. You do realize he’s a spy?” 

“Of course,” Tad’s voice returned. “I’m just keeping my friends close and my enemies closer. Besides, I can use him as a hostage if need be.” 

“As usual, your methods are sublime,” Libra said. 

Candy stopped the recording. “I heard the door close, so I guess they left the office at that point. There was silence after that.” 

“Libra’s got little emotional fluctuation,” Athena said. “It’s there, but I can tell she’s used to regulating them. She seemed a little sad when Tad refused to talk about his past. But there is a deep undercurrent of rage when she mentioned the Pines family.” 

“Too bad we don’t know what she looks like,” Grenda complained. 

Candy took something out of her pocket. “I was only able to salvage one of the cameras from Gideon’s old spy cameras. The rest only transmit audio. I’m sorry I couldn’t get Libra’s face in addition to her motives.” 

“Don’t feel bad, Candy,” Mabel said reassuringly. “At least now we know why she’s been gunning for Dipper this whole time.” 

“You sound surprisingly optimistic considering you just found out you were her target all along,” Trucy observed. 

“Of course, I am upset that Dipper got arrested because of something I did,” Mabel said. “But what can I do to save him? I could apologize to Miss Libra, but I don’t even know what she looks like. And I’m not even sure which of my ‘sins’ she’s talking about. If it was how I set off that chain reaction, it was an accident. Ever since Weirdmageddon, I’ve been trying to be good and not get into trouble, but it seems trouble just gets into me.” 

Then Grenda noticed Northby. “Um, Mabel, who is this?” 

Mabel hugged Northby again. “My new boyfriend.” 

“I’m not sure you two remember me,” Northby said quietly. 

“Of course,” Candy said. “Pacifica’s brother. You and Pacifica were two of my dad’s creations.” Athena, Trucy, and I looked at her. “My father runs the Answered Prayers fertility clinic.”

“Yeah, most of the other adults have forgotten you exist, though,” Grenda added. “The society magazines have only featured Pacifica and Mr. and Mrs. Northwest.” 

“It’s probably because of McGucket’s memory gun,” Wendy surmised. “We know it causes generalized memory loss. And as they say: out of sight, out of mind.” 

“So where have you been?” Grenda asked. “Military school?” 

“An insane asylum, actually,” Northby replied dryly. “Grenda, your voice is much lower than I remember.” 

“Yeah, your sister points that out all the time too,” Grenda sounded a little sad. “She told me I sound like a pro wrestler.” 

“Well, that’s an unorthodox career path,” Northby said. “But I think you could be an amazing wrestler. That’s my sister. So sweet.” 

“Sweet?” Candy repeated. “Are we talking about the same Pacifica?” 

“He’s just taking a brother’s point of view,” Trucy explained.

Says the girl who has used her brother as a prop for her magic shows, then traumatized Athena as his replacement. 

“We have a few hours before nightfall,” I said. “But we still have a lot of leads to cover. Maybe we should split up and cover more ground.” 

“I’ll stay with you, Daddy,” Trucy said. 

“I want to talk to Northby alone,” Athena said. “Maybe I can help jog his memory and get an idea of what he saw at the murder scene.” 

“That sounds like a good idea,” I said. “I’ll go to the Northwest Hotel and see if I can talk with Pacifica on seeing one of the clones. They must be staying in a building, since the Chubascos have been causing heavy rainfall. Maybe there’s an abandoned building they’re using as a shelter downtown. We also still need to look into Colby Roquefort. Libra said he’s a spy, and it sounded like his bosses are the enemies of Tad Strange and Judge Libra. But who is he spying for?” 

“So someone needs to, like, follow him?” Soos asked. 

“Yeah, tail him,” Athena said. “See if he’s involved in anything suspicious.” 

“I could do that,” Soos asked. 

“Yeah, everyone really trusts Soos,” Wendy said. “If Roquefort does see him, he won’t get suspicious.” 

“Good thinking,” I said. “I guess Soos can see if he can find anything on Roquefort and what he knows about the crime.” 

“Oh, boy!” Soos said. “I always wanted to be a spy!” 

“Grenda and I can go to the morgue,” Candy suggested. “Dr. Membrillo’s really smart. Maybe he’s found some new evidence.” 

Grenda made a face. “Yeah, but he seriously needs some Prozac. How can someone be so gloomy all the time?” 

Candy handed me the tiny camera. “Maybe you can catch the clones on video. That would give the judge reasonable doubt, right?” 

“Yes,” I said, tucking the camera into my breast pocket. 

XXX

Trucy and I arrived at the Northwest Hotel. 

“Mr. Wright?” Pacifica called out. 

“Pacifica?” I asked. 

“I need your help. My father and Rona have been meeting clandestinely in his office in the penthouse of the hotel, but he always shuts the door and the walls are too thick to listen in. I want to know what they’re talking about.” 

Hmm. Rona Round is suspicious too. Maybe this could be a better lead than asking her about the clones. “All right.” 

“The penthouse is accessible by the main elevator, but there’s a surveillance camera in the elevator,” Pacifica said. “There’s no cameras in the employee elevator.” 

We slipped around to the back entrance of the hotel, and Pacifica led us into the employee elevator. 

The penthouse was lavishly furnished. Pacifica led us through a hallway. “Hide.” 

Trucy slipped into an alcove. There wasn’t enough room for both of us, so I ducked into a broom closet down the hall, keeping the door just slightly ajar. 

Pacifica pounded on the door. “Dad! There’s a couple of government agents at the door. They know you’re home. I think they’re looking into the gator mine…” 

The door opened. “That’s not the worst thing they could be asking about,” Preston said. 

Preston and Rona disappeared down the corner. I slipped out of the closet and into Preston’s office. In his haste, he left the door unlocked. I took the spy camera out of my pocket and set it inside a small exotic-looking animal skull that Preston was apparently using as a paperweight. I turned it on, then slipped out of the office and back into the closet. I took out my phone and called Candy. 

“Hello?” Candy asked. 

“I planted the camera,” I said. “Is it recording?” 

She was silent for a few minutes. “Yes. I used my mobile internet to check the cloud. I’m getting a good image.”

“All right,” I said. “I’ll be back at the Shack shortly.” 

“Good luck,” Candy said. We hung up. 

I slipped my phone back in my pocket. I peeked through the crack in the door. The hallway appeared empty, so I stepped out of the closet. 

“Hey!” A deep voice called out. A security guard had been in my blind spot. This one was huge; steroidal, even. He was wearing a cheap black rayon suit that stretched miserably under his huge chest and arms. He had multiple piercings in his nose and ears. There was a silver chain coming out of his pants pocket. Several tattoos adorned his face and hands, including one that read “Head” on his forehead and another that read “Chin” on his chin. 

I chuckled nervously. 

“What are you doing here?” The security guard asked. 

I couldn’t claim I was a guest of Pacifica’s. He’d obviously report that to Preston, and she’d get in trouble. And Northby had been clear about what happened when he got in trouble. Even if Pacifica is a bit of a brat, she doesn’t deserve that…

I couldn’t exactly claim to be a new hired servant. 

Then, suddenly, I saw a tall figure wearing a top hat. “Look behind you,” I said. 

“I’m not falling for that old trick,” he said. He glanced behind me and then he couldn’t keep the startled look from his face. He turned and sprinted toward the figure, leaving me alone. 

I spun around. There was a silver mirror hanging on the hallway. The beefy guard apparently saw a reflection. 

I breathed a sigh of relief as I made my way back to the servants’ elevator. 

Trucy joined me a few minutes later. 

“How did you lose that guard?” I asked. 

She smiled. “I just stowed Mr. Hat, and then pretended to be one of Pacifica’s friends. He didn’t question it.” 

“Have you been carrying Mr. Hat around this whole time?” I asked. “No, wait. Don’t answer that. How did you fit Mr. Hat in our little rental car?” 

“It’s magic,” Trucy said. 

I guess I shouldn’t knock it. There was no way I could have won a fight with that guard. 

Pacifica rejoined us. “I convinced my dad the ‘agents’ left.” She took out a lace handkerchief from her purse and patted her forehead. “I think Rona saw through me. She really creeps me out, but she didn’t say anything.” 

“Are you coming to the trial tomorrow?” I asked. 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Pacifica said. 

I glanced at her handkerchief. The initials “PEN” were embroidered in gold thread. “I’ll save Dipper,” I reassured her. “I promise.” 

“I’ll hold you to it,” Pacifica said warningly. “If he’s found guilty tomorrow, I’ll sue you for false advertising.” 

“We’ll be on our way now,” I said. “Soos agreed to put us up at the Shack.” 

“My sympathies,” she said. “That house is a mess. I hope your tetanus shots are up to date.”

We entered the elevator. Pacifica remained in the penthouse and waved her hankie at us as the doors closed. 

“Daddy, why didn’t you tell her about her brother?” Trucy asked as the elevator descended. “She’s obviously sick with worry about him.” 

“I know,” I said. “But she might tell her father about him, and that would put them both in danger. We also need to come up with a plan for after the trial to get them away from their parents.” I sighed. “If only his old lawyer hadn’t given up hope. Disbarment is bad, but not the end of the world…” 

“Not everyone is as lucky as you, Daddy,” Trucy said. 

Lucky? All those years of work, finding someone with the ability to change the course of the Gramarye investigation, and having to spend all that time pretending to be friends with that psychopath Kristoph Gavin? That Zak died despite his and my best intentions? That was luck? 

XXX

Trucy and I returned to the Shack’s living room. Soos, Mabel, and Athena were seated there. 

Grenda and Candy came in. Candy picked up her laptop from the arm of the plush armchair and began to pull up the feeds from the camera. 

Fingers crossed we got a good lead. 

The image showed an empty desk. Then Preston came into view and sat down at the desk. He picked up a notepad on which several items were handwritten. The print was too small to read them clearly. He took his cell phone out of his breast pocket and placed a call. 

“Mr. Blackquill,” Preston said in that oozing voice he used on me. “I am so happy to finally get a hold of you. Your answer is no? I understand, but this would be in five years. I am not asking for a commitment this second…do not take that tone with me, young man. You’ve been in prison. This will probably be your only opportunity to marry into a respectable family. I would advise against wasting it.” 

I couldn’t hear what Blackquill was saying. I knew it was Simon Blackquill, since Preston had mentioned prison. Besides, Simon’s dad Aurelius has been dead for seven years. 

The phone exploded suddenly, burning Preston’s hand and littering the desk with shrapnel. 

Rona seemed unfazed by the explosion. She pulled off the glove on her right hand, revealing a missing red nail and touched the burns on Preston’s hand. Black energy flowed into Preston’s hand, making the burns fade away. Once Preston’s hand was fully healed, she waved her hand over the ruined phone. The pieces of shrapnel flew back toward the phone. It was like watching a video of a phone exploding rewound in slow motion. The phone soon looked like nothing was ever wrong with it. 

I knew that in old cartoons, people could slam the phone receiver so hard the callbox would explode on the other end, but I’ve never seen a cell phone explode from sheer force of vitriol. But if anyone could do it, it would be Simon Blackquill. 

“Wait a moment, Mr. Northwest,” Rona said. She was walking toward the camera and I knew she had seen it. I saw her palm and the screen went black. 

“So we totally proved something is up with Rona,” Trucy said. 

“Yes, but this recording would never be admissible in court,” I said. “We know now that Rona is the donor of the red nail we found at the crime scene. And Preston is a jerk who just tried to marry off his daughter to the Twisted Samurai himself! But beyond that, we don’t know how this ties into the murder.” 

“Think she and Judge Libra could be the same person?” Mabel asked. 

“I kind of doubt it,” Candy said. “Their voices were different.” 

“Their emotional profiles are too different too,” Athena said. “Libra has little emotional fluctuation, but Rona’s practically boiling over with anger and sadness. Why is she working for Preston Northwest?” 

“Maybe he’s blackmailing her?” Wendy asked. “Everyone knows he’s got his fingers in a lot of illegal pies.” 

“What would he have on her, though?” Trucy asked. 

“There are rumors that his grandpa did all sorts of illegal human experimentation,” Candy said. “Like, Unit 731-level stuff. Maybe she’s a product of one of those experiments?” 

Everyone exchanged creeped out looks. 

“She might just be a witch,” Mabel said. “She kind of looks like those hot ones.” 

“Maybe a vengeful ghost?” Wendy asked. 

“How about a human-sized fairy,” Soos suggested. 

“Enchantress?” Trucy added. 

“Healing touch!” Athena said. “What? I’m a fan of Derek Stiles.” 

“Let’s make a bet,” Candy suggested. 

“No gambling!” I said to Athena and Trucy. They both groaned. 

“Well, what kind of being would be able to magically repair a broken phone and heal a serious burn?” Trucy asked. “We could ask her what she is, but I don’t think she’ll tell us the truth.” 

Mabel thought a minute. “Too bad we threw the Journals in the Bottomless Pit. But I don’t remember a lady like that in the journals. Of course, I didn’t read them as close as Dipper did. But I don’t think Grunkle Ford ever met this lady.” 

“Arrgh!” Grenda vented her frustration. “We tried to get some answers, but it’s only giving us more questions!” 

“Well, we didn’t find much either,” Mabel said. 

“Yeah,” Soos said. “We followed Colby Roquefort from Burger Barn to his house. He gave his dad a back massage. Then they turned on the TV and watched The Road to Perdition. They shared a popcorn bowl and everything.” Soos sounded oddly sad upon delivering this news. I remembered that he had mentioned his father abandoned him. “Sorry, dudes.” 

Athena shrugged. “Northby must be blocking out the moment of the murder, just as I blocked out what happened to my mom. I could only get him to tell me he went to the park to meet someone and he doesn’t remember anything after that. He told me quite a bit about his home life.” She scoffed. “His father used to read the Yeats short story ‘The Crucifixion of the Outcast’ as a bedtime story to reinforce the point that—” She tried to imitate Preston’s voice. “‘peasants who seek to cross their designated boundaries deserve to die a horrible death’!” Her voice went back to normal. “Can you imagine?” 

“What a prick!” Widget added. 

“Northby went to the kitchen. He said he wanted to make some tea as a thanks for helping him,” Athena said. 

“Dr. Membrillo gave us these 3-D images of the murder weapon,” Candy said, handing me a USB flash drive. “The images weren’t available for court yesterday because it took several hours for the images to be rendered. Dr. Membrillo’s computer isn’t very powerful.” 

“He has a tiny budget,” Grenda added helpfully. 

I would have to look at them myself. There was a scream and a crash from the kitchen. Everyone ran into the kitchen. 

Northby pointed to the wide window. “Someone was in the window!” He had obviously dropped a glass pitcher. 

We ran out the door and around to just outside the window. 

There were two short shadowy figures in the brush. They ran in the direction of town. One of them stumbled and tripped over a tree root. A briefcase fell out of his or her hand and landed on the ground. 

Soos pulled out a flashlight and Grenda pinned down the fallen figure. The light revealed the face of Dipper Pines. His trucker hat bore a four written in what appeared to be Sharpie rather than a pine tree, but it was otherwise identical to Wendy’s. 

“Nice to meet you, Tracey,” I said. 

“I’m Quattro,” the Dipper clone retorted. 

“What’s this?” Wendy picked up the banged-up briefcase and opened it. The contents were ominous: ropes, syringes of some clear liquid, duct tape. She put her face close to Quattro’s. “Start talking.” 

Quattro blushed. “Can we go inside? It might rain again.” 

“Fine,” I said. We walked back into the Shack and gathered into the living room, making sure to surround Quattro on all sides in case he decided to run. 

“How much do you know already?” Quattro asked. 

“That you’re made of paper, you were at the crime scene, and you’re a clone Dipper made along with your brother,” I said. 

Quattro shifted uncomfortably. “That figures.” 

“What were you doing with this?” Wendy asked, holding up the briefcase. “Trying to kidnap someone?” 

“Yes, actually,” Quattro said. “Tracey and I were trying to grab the Northwest scion.” 

“Northby?” I asked. 

“Yes,” Quattro admitted. “We were going to turn in the trust fund brat for a sweet reward!” 

“That’s odd,” Trucy said. “You didn’t have any tension when you said the first part, but you tensed up when you mentioned a reward. Why?” 

“You tell me, magical girl,” Quattro said. 

“Northby’s going to testify in court tomorrow,” I said. “But maybe if you explained what you were doing there…” 

“I wouldn’t let him testify if I were you,” Quattro said. “You’re not going to like who he’ll name as the murderer.” 

“Who is the killer?” I asked. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Quattro asked. “Dipper Pines.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “Dipper’s innocent. All the evidence against him is your and Tracey’s doing.” 

“Well, think about it,” Quattro said. “If either Tracey or I killed Toby, the blood would have splattered on us. We would have died instantly. But no such risk for Dipper Classic.” 

“But Dipper has an alibi,” I said. 

“Right. Watching TV with Mabel,” Quattro said. “Well, Mabel? Can you confidently say you had your eye on Dipper the whole night?” 

Mabel said nothing. 

“Can you even be sure that the Dipper with you was really Dipper Classic?” Quattro said with a smirk. 

“I know my own brother!” Mabel snapped. 

“I don’t have Dipper’s birthmark,” Quattro admitted, pushing his bangs up to reveal a bare forehead. “My hair and skin are lighter, too. But you didn’t see Dipper’s birthmark that night. And the lights were off, with only the television providing light. I wouldn’t blame you if you made a mistake…” 

“I remember Dipper had some soda,” Mabel said. “You melt when you touch liquid, so it had to be the real Dipper!” 

“Can you prove that?” Quattro said. “Evidence is everything in court. You can’t produce the glass with Dipper’s fingerprints and epithelial cells. Even if you did produce a glass with such evidence, there’s no way to prove that it got on the glass the night Toby died.” 

Mabel clenched her fists. “Grrr…” 

“Do you see where I’m going with this?” Quattro asked. “Let me go or subpoena me. But if you drag me to court, Gideon will only be too happy to hear that it was me smiling at Mrs. Gleeful, Tracey was here pretending to be Dipper, and the real Dipper killed Toby.” 

“How about this?” Mabel asked. “I go get the garden hose, and see if you still say Dipper’s the true murderer?” 

“Could you handle watching your brother dissolve like you poured acid on him?” Quattro answered. “And even if you melt me, Tracey will just tell Gideon that you dissolved me to protect Dipper and that I made that fake confession.” 

Mabel pouted. “Stupid smart clone of my stupid smart brother…” 

“Quattro, you didn’t kill Toby,” I said. “But Dipper didn’t kill him either! Why can’t you believe in him?” 

“I can’t believe,” Quattro said. I didn’t need Athena’s ability to hear emotions to hear the sadness and defeat in his voice. “Not anymore.” 

“We could help you,” Athena said. “If you just work with us.” 

“You’re Dipper Classic’s lawyer,” Quattro said. “Your loyalties are to him, not to me. And despite me being a clone, I am not him. He’s a monster. He killed my brothers and he killed Toby.” 

“Quattro, you’re trying to express disgust,” Athena said. “But your eyebrows are raised and drawn together, which indicates deep fear. The same deep fear that I can hear in your heart. And in the fake confession.” 

“I dissolve with water, and this planet’s seventy percent water,” Quattro retorted. “Do the math. Every day I’m still awake is an accident and a miracle. Why wouldn’t I be full of fear?” 

“There’s more to it than that,” Athena said. 

“No, there isn’t,” Quattro insisted. 

“Dude,” Soos said. “Let’s just pretend you are right. I mean, you’re obviously lying through those paper teeth of yours. How do you chew anything, by the way?” 

“Soos, focus!” Wendy said. 

Soos continued. “Well, you said that the real Dipper was out murdering Toby and one of you clone dudes was here watching TV. But why would you do that for him? You obviously hate his guts.” 

“Exactly,” Wendy said. 

“Just let me go,” Quattro said. “If you do, I won’t accuse Dipper Classic of murdering Toby even though he totally did.” 

“No,” Mabel said. “Even if you took back what you said about Dipper, you still tried to kidnap my boyfriend.” 

“I guess that means you buy Northwest’s little sob story?” Quattro said. “Well, Dipper Classic took a certain line from a certain journal very seriously: ‘Remember: In Gravity Falls, there is no one you can trust.’” 

“We trust him a lot more than you,” Trucy said. “At least he gave us straight answers!” 

“Fine. In court tomorrow, you’ll see what that trust gets you,” Quattro said. “I have nothing more to say.” 

“So, are we going to tie him up or something?” Soos asked. “If only there was something that could hold paper down. Like, an item that could weigh down paper.” 

“I think we might have something,” Wendy said, looking toward the giant dinosaur skull that was apparently being used as a coffee table. 

A few minutes later, Quattro was pinned firmly under the dinosaur skull. He was writhing and flailing, trying to get it off his back. 

Candy clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Your Dipper impression is spot on.”

“Yeah, Dipper totally wouldn’t be able to get out from under that thing,” Mabel said. 

“This is cruel and unusual punishment!” Quattro insisted. 

“The 8th Amendment doesn’t say anything about using a dinosaur skull as a paperweight,” I replied. 

Quattro squirmed some more, then stopped. “Can I at least have a coloring book? I’m bored.” 

“Okay,” Mabel said. “I’ll go get a coloring book and some crayons.” 

“Just don’t give him the cursed one,” Wendy warned. 

“Nah, I threw that one in the bottomless pit,” Mabel said. 

Cursed coloring book? Ugh, I’m too tired to ask…

“It’s late,” I said. “We better go to bed.” 

“I’m sorry I turned down your offer for a sleepover,” Mabel said. “I just couldn’t tell anyone about Northby. But Trucy and I are going to have a sleepover, so you’re welcome to come.” 

“I’ve got some romantic teen manga,” Trucy said. 

“We’re in,” Candy said. 

“Totally,” Grenda agreed. 

Athena left with Wendy for her house. Soos led me to the break room, where there was a couch, a pillow, and a blanket. Clearly where Northby had been sleeping. I changed out of my suit and into my blue striped pajama tops and bottoms. I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, and then went to the kitchen for a glass of water. 

Northby came down the stairs. “Mabel and her friends are preparing their room for their sleepover. I wanted to see if I could talk to the clone.” 

I nodded. “Go ahead.” 

Northby went into the living room. I stood behind the doorframe, out of either of their lines of sight. 

“Why don’t you get closer?” Quattro said. “It’s not like I can do anything from under this thing.” 

“Our last meeting did not convince me to trust you,” Northby said stiffly. 

Quattro’s face softened. “Look, I’m sorry about that. I really am. But your father won’t kill you. He’s under strict orders to keep you alive, no matter what. I don’t have that luxury.” 

Luxury? Is he referring to Dipper as his father? Well, he did say Dipper melted his clone “brethren.” And when he ran into Dipper again, he did think Dipper was going to pour the can of soda on him. Wow. This is a terrible misunderstanding, come to think of it. 

And strict orders? Preston Northwest is taking orders from someone? That guy is so arrogant that I can’t imagine him taking orders from anyone but Preston Northwest…

“But you know my father will imprison me all over again,” Northby said. “Or worse.” 

“I know you have a lot to lose,” Quattro said. “But I have far, far more to lose.” 

“And that makes it all right for you to abduct me? To chase me down, even here?” Northby’s voice was incredulous. 

“Your freedom versus two lives. My brother’s life and my own.” Quattro’s voice was pleading. 

Northby looked down at the floor. “Why can’t you work with Mr. Wright? He’s willing to help you too.” 

“Because if I do, that monster will kill my brother. And he’s all I have left. Even my so-called ‘sister’ threatened to melt me with a garden hose.” Quattro’s voice broke, but I think it was more because he was trying not to cry than one of Dipper’s voice cracks. 

“Is there something I can do to help rescue your brother?” Northby asked. 

Quattro scoffed. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Northwest. I mean, sure I was born earlier this year, but…” he trailed off. “Never mind.”

“I am not my father, or my ancestors,” Northby said. 

“Could have fooled me,” Quattro retorted. “Are you his son or a clone?” 

Northby looked slightly bemused. “The literal clone is asking that? Fortunately, genetic engineering has not evolved enough to produce viable human clones. Otherwise, I have no doubt my father would have just cloned himself.” 

Quattro nodded. “That does sound like him. All right. There is something you can do for me. Get me out from under this thing and come with me. I won’t use the ropes or the serum if you promise not to try to run…” 

“I refuse,” Northby said, sharper than before. 

“I expected as much,” Quattro said. “The Northwests are all the same. But even if you tell the truth tomorrow, no one’s going to believe you. Who’s going to believe someone that was locked up in an insane asylum?” 

“I don’t even remember enough to know if I’m telling the truth,” Northby said. “Between arriving at the park and Mabel rescuing me is a complete blank.” 

“Do you want to know what my brother calls you?” Quattro asked. 

“What does he call me?” Northby’s tone sounded like he really didn’t want to know. 

Quattro gave a slight smirk. “Another link in the world’s worst chain.” 

Northby’s face crumpled. He staggered back toward the stairs, without even saying anything further to Quattro. I wanted to comfort him, but that would mean admitting I was listening in. I heard his footsteps fade. I sighed and went back to the ‘break room’ and covered myself with the blanket. 

XXX

I awoke, blearily. I tried to remember a dream I had as I stumbled into the living room. Dipper and Northby were sitting on a floor that looked like it was made of black glass. Their sisters were clinging onto their arms, crying. The two boys were clearly trying to take protective positions with respect to the girls. I reached for Dipper, and my hand phased through. That was the last thing I remembered. 

My arm itched maddeningly. I pulled back my sleeve to assess the damage, revealing a constellation of mosquito bites spelling out, “RATCH OUT FOR WONA.” 

“Soothsquito bites,” Quattro explained. “They’re sagely, but dyslexic.” 

“You’re made of paper,” I replied. 

“Inherited that knowledge from Dipper Classic. He got a set of bites that said ‘Bewarb’,” Quattro replied. “But yeah, you’re right. The soothsquitos don’t like drinking ink, so they leave me and Tracey alone.” 

“Good morning, Daddy,” Trucy came in, holding some coffee cups. 

“Good morning, dear,” I said. “How was the sleepover?” 

“Lots of fun,” Trucy said. “I thought it’d be awkward with a boy in the room, but Northby fell asleep during the first romcom and he didn’t wake up after that.” 

“Well, he has a Y-chromosome,” I said. Hmm. There’s a good idea for an alternate sleep aid. It’d only work on male insomniacs, but romantic comedy movies? Total snore. 

Athena and Wendy arrived. They both looked chipper as ever. What is it with redheads and confidence? 

“Did you have fun sleeping over at Wendy’s?” I asked Athena. 

“Of course I did, boss,” Athena said happily. “Her dad even invited me back. His exact words were, ‘Tomorrow. Arm-wrestling. You’re going down, Cykes!’”   
“It was amazing!” Wendy said. “She totally cleaned him out at poker.” 

“You used your power to cheat, didn’t you?” I asked. 

“You used Trucy to cheat yourself, Boss,” Athena replied.

“Hypocrite!” cried out Widget. 

Northby came in, dressed in a miniature version of Preston’s suit, only without the Northwest crest on the pocket. 

“Why aren’t you wearing your sweater?” Mabel entered. She was wearing a gray skirt, white socks with her black Mary Janes, and a blue sweater with the scales of justice on it. 

“Believe me, I’d rather wear the sweater,” Northby said. “But these clothes are more appropriate for court.” 

“Did your daddy’s clothes shrink in the wash or something?” Trucy asked. 

“No, he had smaller versions of his suits made for me,” Northby replied. “As a constant reminder that I’m meant to be a miniature version of him.” 

Athena drove, I rode in the front passenger seat, while Trucy, Northby, and Mabel sat in the back. Soos had agreed to take Wendy, Grenda, and Candy in his truck. 

We met up with Wendy on the courthouse steps. 

“I had Quattro sitting on my lap,” Wendy explained. “He behaved himself. But I still feel icky. I guess it’s worth it if we’re saving Dipper. I have Soos watching him now.” 

We glanced over. Soos and Quattro were walking side by side. 

“So are you named for the Schick razor?” Soos asked. 

“Other way around,” Quattro said. 

“Wow!” Soos said. 

“Yeah, I’m not confident,” Wendy said. “And there’s the other one still out there.” 

We filed into the courtroom. 

McGucket slammed down his gavel. “Court has resumed for the trial of Mason ‘Dipper’ Pines.” 

Athena and I were standing behind the defense’s bench. We had two chairs near the defense bench and the defendant’s chair. Northby sat in one, Mabel in the other. Gideon was looking at us quizzically, but he didn’t ask for details. 

I scanned the gallery. Wendy’s friends, Candy, and Grenda were seated in the front row of the gallery. Pacifica was seated between her father and a fussy-looking woman I assumed to be her mother in the third row. Rona was there too, seated to the left of Preston. 

Pacifica was looking around the courtroom and I followed her eyeline to Northby. Her eyes widened and tears appeared at the corner of her eyes. She stood up.

Preston grabbed her wrist and said something. I was too far away to hear. Pacifica gave him a pleading look and pointed toward Northby. Preston spoke again, a stern expression on his face. 

Pacifica blushed and sat back down. She shot Northby an apologetic look. He nodded to her. And I felt like they had been through these exchanges before. 

Preston’s face returned to neutral. Hmm. Preston doesn’t seem too fazed that his runaway son is in this courtroom. Unless, he knew ahead of time.

I shot another look at Northby, who seemed to be deliberately looking away from his family. 

“Yesterday, some new evidence came to light,” Gideon began. “However, because I am an amazing prosecutor, I have acquired a new witness to explain said evidence.” 

“Let’s see this new witness,” McGucket said. 

The courtroom doors opened and Dipper, or rather, the other clone of Dipper, strode in. Smugness radiated out of his pores. Wait. Does he even have pores? Whatever. 

Dipper Number Three, or Tracey, took his place behind the witness stand. 

“State your name,” Gideon said. 

“Tracey Pines,” Tracey said, doffing his hat with a “3” written on it. 

“Did you witness the murder of Toby Determined?” Gideon asked. 

Tracey smirked. “Yes, gather round, and I’ll tell all.” 

“Cut the theatrics,” Gideon snapped. “Just tell me. Is the murderer in this courtroom today?” 

“Yes,” Tracey said. 

“Will you identify the murderer?” Gideon said. 

“Yes,” Tracey replied. He pointed, not at Dipper, but at Northby. “Northby Northwest.” 

Gideon sputtered. “Wait, what?!” He lost his balance on his stepstool, which teetered precariously. Gideon flailed his arms frantically but crashed to the floor. A small cloud of dust flew up. 

“What’s with Gideon?” Trucy asked. 

“Clearly, Tracey has changed his story,” I said with a smirk. “Gideon was obviously expecting Tracey to identify Dipper as the murderer, just as Quattro threatened last night. But Tracey named Northby as the real killer.” 

Mabel giggled. “Wow. You’d think Gideon would have learned not to take deals that seem too good to be true.” 

“Well, it would make sense that Tracey wouldn’t trust Gideon any farther than I can kick him,” Dipper said. “I had already met Gideon at the time I created the clones. The memory of Gideon trying to cut me was still fresh in my mind. But I hadn’t met the Northwests yet…” 

“Mr. Wright?” Judge McGucket asked. “Do you have a problem with this witness’ testimony?” 

“Yes,” I said. Why did Tracey approach Gideon? Shelly DeKiller pulled this same bullshit on Edgeworth all those years ago. He was protecting his client, Matt Engarde. But why would Tracey want to protect Dipper if he blames him for the deaths of his clone brothers? There has to be something here. 

“Mr. Wright, a word?” Wendy asked. She pulled me aside. “What in the name of Shu Takumi are you doing?! Clone Boy just gave you an out! If you manage to get his testimony thrown out and you can’t get anything out of the PTSD case, Dipper will be found guilty…” 

I glanced to Northby, who was staring down at his hands. His skin was pale. 

“I have to find the truth,” I said. “There’s something going on here. Something just under the surface. Yesterday, Quattro was insistent that Dipper killed Toby, and now Tracey is saying something entirely different? And that Tracey used false pretenses to testify in the first place. If Northby really were the killer, why wouldn’t Tracey have just become a witness for the defense?” 

“Look, you’re a very trusting person,” Wendy said. “But there are a lot of people who would take advantage of that.” 

“I don’t need you to tell me that,” I said acridly. 

She was unfazed. “The Northwests can’t be trusted. Quattro called what Northby told you a ‘sob story.’ He could just be playing you. I know you want to believe a little kid, but didn’t that story seem a little too…horrific? He came up with the best possible fiction to get your sympathy.” 

“So you want to trust Quattro?” I asked. 

“I don’t want to trust any of them,” Wendy said. “But if Quattro came from Dipper and Northby came from Nathaniel Northwest, the man responsible for my great-great-grandfather’s death, who do you think I’m going to believe first?” 

“I can’t end this trial without answering all the questions and exhausting all possibilities,” I said. “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” 

“But you’re risking Dipper’s life,” Wendy retorted. “Northby doesn’t seem like a killer, but you’ve been fooled before. Even Dr. Pines believed Bill Cipher once, and he was basically the fucking devil! Just think it through. Why was Northby even at the park? He was trying to lay low after escaping from the asylum. It doesn’t make sense to go to a public park.” 

Stop making good points, Wendy. Of course, I held my tongue. 

“The press had to know Northby escaped from the asylum,” Wendy continued. 

Yes. Preston obviously bribed them to keep details about Northby from getting out. 

Wendy kept going. “Toby was a member of the press. I mean, barely, but he recognized Northby and Northby brained him with the rock to keep him from calling the police. Simple as that. Please, Mr. Wright.” Her voice was pleading. She also had taken off Dipper’s old hat and was cradling it gently in her hands. “For once in this trial, you have a chance to win…” 

Of course I want to save Dipper. But what if Wendy’s wrong and Northby didn’t do it? I can’t let one boy die, even to save another’s life. 

“Mr. Wright?” McGucket’s voice called. “We’re waiting on you.” 

I returned to the defense’s bench. “I’m sorry. I’d like to continue this line of questioning. Tracey, would you be willing to give us more details?” 

“Of course,” Tracey said. 

Gideon had apparently righted his stepstool and was standing on it once again. Roquefort was fanning Gideon with a fancy-looking silk fan. Gideon’s cheeks were still flushed with rage. 

Quattro mouthed something. My lip reading isn’t perfect, but I’m pretty sure it was “I hope you know what you’re doing…” 

And I hope I know what I’m doing…pfft. Ha. When do I ever know when I’m doing?! 

To Be Continued

Author’s Notes:   
I originally was going to have the little scenes of the pairs going to their respective destinations, but that would have made the chapter too long, so I just had them recap what they found. I’m hoping to do a collection of “bonus” scenes that are from a third-person POV for the very end since I decided to stick with first-person POV from Phoenix’s viewpoint. 

The joke that Preston read “The Crucifixion of the Outcast” is a takeoff of the brilliant joke from Lost Legends. Priscilla read a shortened version of “The Ugly Duckling” to Pacifica and tore the pages out. It’s hard to top that, but I knew I had to have Preston do a twisted storytime. The Yeats story is a great story, but definitely not one for children.


	6. Trial Latter

A man sitting in the gallery stood up. He was dressed in rather old-fashioned clothes: a straw hat of the type carnies used to wear, a white shirt, red suspenders, brown pants, and red bowtie “Before we go any further in this trial,” he began. “Sheriff Blubs, I need you to arrest somebody.”

 

“Arrest who, Mr. Sprott?” Blubs asked.

 

Sprott pointed to Athena. “That girl. She’s a witch.”

 

“What evidence do you have?” Sheriff Blubs asked in a tone that clearly said _I don’t have time for this shit._

 

“She kept beating Manly Dan at poker,” Sprott pointed to a massive, barrel-chested redhaired man in the gallery. “He told me about it just now. He’s the best poker player in town.”

 

“I never said she was a witch,” Dan insisted. “I just said she kept winning at poker like…she had superpowers or somethin’.”

 

“Why are you calling me a witch?” Athena asked. “I’m not dressed like one.” She lifted her right leg, resting her foot on the defense bench. “See? My shoes don’t have buckles on them.” She put her leg back down. “I’m not wearing a pointy hat.”

 

Sprott stared blankly at her. “The pointy hat is a derivative of the Judenhat and is a symbol of hate. So, you’re not just a witch, but you think jokes about Jews are funny?”

 

“No!” Athena cried. “I’m not an anti-Semite.”

 

“Anti-semtex?” Sprott looked baffled. “Like, you’re against plastic explosives? I guess witches do have spells that blow up stuff.”

 

Athena sighed, Widget turning red to indicate her frustration. “Never mind.”

 

“She said she wasn’t a witch,” Blubs said.

 

“She lies,” Sprott said. “She’s a lawyer, ain’t she?”

 

Blubs palmed his face. “Even if she was a witch, it isn’t illegal to be a witch in Gravity Falls, otherwise I’d have to arrest that creepy lady with all those disembodied hands. It’s just not worth it.”

 

“Well, maybe you can’t arrest her on legal grounds,” Sprott said. “But what about moral grounds?”

 

“What about manners?” I said. “You’re interrupting Athena while she’s at work, let alone making baseless accusations.” 

 

“Yeah,” Athena said, hands on her hips.

 

“How do you plead?” Sprott asked. He gave her a pathetic, begging look. “Please don’t make me get the rocks. They’re heavy.”

 

“OK, this does beat being accused of murder and being targeted by an evil spy,” Athena said, palming her face. “But I don’t like the way he’s holding that torch and pitchfork. I’m starting to get a headache.”

 

I’ve had a headache since all this started, and you don’t hear me complaining.

 

But it seemed Athena and I weren’t the only ones exasperated. “Now is not the time, Farmer Sprott,” Gideon said. “Now get out of my courtroom!”

 

Wow. Guess Gideon was serious about wanting to win the case.

 

“She’s got a familiar!” Sprott said. “That little color-shifting creature around her neck!”

 

“Widget?” Athena replied. “He’s a miniature computer, not a magical creature!”

 

“Idiot,” Widget chirped.

 

“Sheriff Blubs,” wailed Gideon. “Can’t you do something about this?”

 

“It’s best to just let him yell,” Blubs replied from the other side of the room, taking out his cell phone to either browse mobile internet or text. I can’t tell offhand what.  

 

“She’s a witch!” Sprott insisted. “If I’m wrong, let the sky fall!”

 

A chunk from the ceiling fell and struck Sprott on the head, knocking him unconscious.

 

A few minutes passed awkwardly. No one rose to help him.

 

Roquefort sighed loudly. “Fine, you lazy bastards! I’ll get EMS out here.” He moved over to where Sprott fell, grabbed him by his arms, and started dragging him away.

 

“Um, are you going to claim that proves I am a witch?” Athena asked uneasily.

 

“Nah,” McGucket said. “I mean, the roof of the courthouse has been in bad repair for years and Mr. Sprott’s yellin’ must have dislodged that piece.”

 

“Don’t take it personally,” said the waitress from the café. She was sitting in the gallery. “After you know what, everything was supposed to go back the way it was. Which means Sprott should have been cured from his exposure to that madness bubble, but I guess his brain gears are still all gummed up.”

 

I guess that’s one way to put it. But then again, it seems most of this town has a few bats in their belfry.

 

The Woodpecker guy was still holding the nest. The eggs within began to crack. And out popped…little baby woodpeckers. They peeped cutely.

 

“WANDA!” The guy wailed. “How could you cheat on me?!”

 

Dr. Membrillo chuckled. “His wife may be a woodpecker, but he’s a cuckold.”

 

OK, not a few. A whole colony of bats.

 

“Um, may I start now?” Tracey asked from the witness stand.

 

“Fine,” Gideon snarled, rubbing his temples wearily. Guess that’s three of us with headaches.

 

“Can you hear anything in Tracey’s voice?” I asked Athena.

 

“There’s a lot of hatred,” Athena said. “There’s some toward Dipper, but a lot toward Northby. I wonder why…”

 

That is odd. Quattro seemed neutral, even apologetic, when they spoke.

 

Tracey began. “Quattro and I made a deal with Toby Determined. We were staking out the town for the escaped insane asylum inmate. And it so happened that we spotted our quarry entering Trembley Park.”

 

“OBJECTION!” I cried. “Toby told you the true identity of the escaped insane asylum inmate?”

 

“Of course,” Tracey replied. “You see, Toby was the only staff member of the Gravity Falls _Gossiper_ and he was struggling to break even. He learned that Northby Northwest, the much-maligned son of Preston Northwest, had broken out of the insane asylum. Except the press was bribed not to release any details. Toby was stupid, but he’s kept the _Gossiper_ floating for this long, so he planned to capture Northby himself for the reward. And if the Northwests didn’t give him a reward, well, he’d blackmail them.”

 

“OBJECTION!” Athena cried. “Those are serious accusations. You’re accusing the victim of conspiracy to kidnap, blackmail…”

 

Tracey smirked. “Then why don’t you ask Toby yourself? Oh, you can’t. He’s dead!”

 

Too bad Maya’s not here. I’d love to see the look on that little asshole Xerox’s face if she could channel Toby right here, right now. Alas, I didn’t have enough money to appease Maya’s appetite for burgers over the trip, so I didn’t invite her. What? Traveling is expensive.

 

Though to be fair, Toby’s face on Maya’s head…eeeugh. I’m not sleeping tonight…

 

Tracey continued. “We surrounded Northby and told him the jig was up. And he picked up the rock and slammed Toby on the head twice. Needless to say, Quattro and I beat a hasty retreat to avoid the flying blood…”

 

“OBJECTION!” I cried. I smirked. “Toby died from a single blow to the head.”

 

“Oh, right,” Tracey chuckled nervously. “Silly me. Northby swung the rock, Toby ducked, and his hat fell off, then another swing and bam! Toby out.”

 

“Toby wasn’t wearing his hat,” I said.

 

“Really?” Tracey asked. “Urp, I mean….of course he wasn’t. He ran out of the _Gossiper_ office when he saw Northby on the street and forgot to grab it…”

 

“OBJECTION!” I’d have to thank Wendy for noticing this. “Northby was hiding from the police! It’s not likely he would have been out on a public street, visible from the _Gossiper_ ’s office window!”

 

“I’m just telling the story as it was,” Tracey said. “We saw him enter the Park through the main entrance…”

 

Athena whispered to Northby. “Did you go in through the main entrance?”

 

Northby shook his head. “No. I went in through the East entrance. I was sticking to the back alleys. I needed to use one of the emergency phones and the closest one was in the park.”

 

“OBJECTION!” I cried. “Northby here just told us he came in through the East entrance!”

 

“Do you have any proof he did?” Tracey asked.

 

I nodded. “Sheriff Blubs printed the emergency phone. Since Northby’s a minor, his fingerprints are likely not on file. If we can match his prints to a set of prints from the phone, that corroborates his story. Unless, of course, you saw Northby go to the phone…”

 

Tracey winced. “No…”

 

“Dr. Membrillo?” I asked. “Would you care to do the honors?”

 

“Certainly.” He took out a 10-print card and an inkpad. A few minutes passed as Membrillo printed Northby and scanned the prints onto the laptop still connected to the projector.

 

“I’ve made four ten-point matches lifted from the emergency phone receiver to Northby Northwest,” Dr. Membrillo reported. “Leaving evidence at a murder scene and now being accused of murder by the prosecution’s witness? Boy, I told you to keep your head down.”

 

Preston Northwest stood up. “You told him? You knew he escaped and failed to report it?!”

 

Dr. Membrillo was unfazed. “I’m only tasked with keeping track of the dead in Gravity Falls. The living are out of my purview, even when they’re smuggled into my morgue via body bag.”

 

“Mark my words, Doctor. You’re going to be doing autopsies in some backwater town where your talent goes wasted…” Preston snarled.

 

Dr. Membrillo smirked at that. “Why do you think they sent me here?”

 

“Daddy, this may be the wrong time to ask, but why are they saying Northby was in an insane asylum?” Pacifica asked.

 

Preston turned to her. “Now, sweetie, it was for his own safety. Your brother is not well…”

 

“YOU LIAR!” Pacifica screamed, standing up and wobbling on her high-heeled shoes. “You told me he was at boarding school!”

 

“That was to protect your sensitive feelings,” Preston replied. “You would worry about him, so I had to…change some details. Now just calm down and be seated, my bright diamond…”

 

“No!” Pacifica cried, backing away from him.

 

“Pacifica, stop making a scene,” Preston’s wife said.

 

“Can it, Mom!” Pacifica cried. “You just found out your son’s been in an insane asylum, and you tell me to stop making a scene!”

 

“Very well, then,” Mrs. Northwest said, opening her purse and taking out an ornate hand mirror.  She gazed into her reflection as she delivered her next sentence. “You see if you land a rich husband stomping around and screaming in public like that.”

 

“Better that than offering yourself as a prize in a yachting contest!” Pacifica shot back. “It was the only way you weren’t going to die alone!”

 

“Apologize to your mother at once, young lady!” Preston ordered.

 

“Boss,” Athena said. “I think I can get a paper out of Pacifica and the Rich Bitch trifecta just on today alone…” If I remember correctly, the Rich Bitch trifecta was daddy issues, unhealthy obsessions with looks and weight, and the pointing out of flaws in others to mask their own insecurities. But that’s not important right now…

 

“Focus, Athena,” I said.

 

“But my publication record!” Athena whined. “I let Apollo be first author on our paper about the Rex Kyubi slaying…why did I do that?”

 

Pacifica left the gallery and moved toward Northby.

 

Northby immediately stood up as she approached. “You can take this seat. I’ll stand…”

 

Mabel coughed. “Guess we know who the Alpha Twin was.”

 

“We aren’t twins,” Pacifica said. “And I’m not just saying that because we have absolutely nothing in common. Now scootch your chair away from my brother’s…”

 

It seems like Pacifica’s rebounding from this little shock.

 

“Can we continue with this?” Gideon complained.

 

Roquefort had returned to Gideon’s side at the prosecutor’s bench. “Continue with this clearly fallacious testimony? I’d say cut Tracey Pines loose.”

 

“Please, no,” Tracey cried. “I was just…nervous! I misremembered! You know, human memory is not a recording device.”

 

“You aren’t human,” Gideon sneered. “And I’m sorry, Mr. Pines, but only humans have human rights. So, I suggest you either tell the truth or admit you’re labelin’ lizards as alligators and be held in contempt of court. And honestly, I don’t have a preference at this point!”

 

Wow, this guy is really getting under Gideon’s skin if he’s dropping his whole folksy Southern charmer persona.

 

“Well, Northby could have touched the phone after the murder,” Tracey’s voice was frantic. “My brother and I won’t leave fingerprints, so who’s to say he didn’t use the phone after Quattro called the police for the fake confession?”

 

“You seem to be doing an awful lot of backpedaling,” Athena said.

 

“I swear, Northby struck him in the back of the head,” Tracey insisted. “One brutal smash as Toby was running away…”

 

“OBJECTION!” I cried. “Toby was struck on the side of his head.” I showed Tracey the photo from the autopsy, with the gaping wound on the right side of his head.

 

“Meep…” Tracey cried.

 

“Tracey,” I began. “I’m willing to believe you saw nothing!”

 

Tracey screamed as he crumpled before our eyes. Literally. His already-paler-than-Dipper skin tone faded to a sickly gray.

 

Quattro ran over with a clothing iron and glided it over Tracey, which smoothed him out. Tracey took a few deep breaths, which seemed to restore his color. Though…why would he even need to breathe if he’s made of paper? Man, these paper clones have such confusing anatomy… 

 

“All right,” Tracey said. “I didn’t actually see the moment of the crime. I was out cold at the scene, and so was Quattro. But that doesn’t change the fact Northby killed Toby. I have proof.” He looked over to Northby. “Those are the clothes you were wearing the night of the murder. You obviously laundered them, but there might be traces of Toby’s blood remaining. Blood stains are stubborn. Gideon, did you have Dipper’s clothing checked for blood?”

 

“Don’t be stupid,” Gideon said with a growl. “Of course I did. There was no trace of blood on Dipper Pines’ clothing.”

 

“Are you suggesting we check Northby’s clothes with an Alternative Light Source?” Athena asked, fiddling with her earring. “I know forensics techs shine ultraviolet light to find body fluids.”

 

“No,” Tracey said. “His jacket is black, so it would absorb the ultraviolet light. Also, blood doesn’t fluoresce like other body fluids. However, if you used an infrared camera to take a photo of the jacket, any blood stains would show up.”

 

“You talk as if my office could afford an infrared camera,” complained Dr. Membrillo. “My laptop is so obsolete it still runs Windows 10!”

 

“We don’t need a special infrared camera,” Tracey said. “Candy, you could modify a digital camera to take IR photos, yes.”

 

“If I had a digital camera, yes,” Candy said. “But I couldn’t salvage any more of Gideon’s spy cameras. Most people smashed them beyond repair. And my dad took away all my digital cameras when I was playing with these artificial wombs he’s working on.”

 

‘Playing’ with artificial wombs? Do I even want to know?  

 

Gideon’s mother reached into her purse and held out a small camera bag toward Candy. “Would this one do?”

 

“Mrs. Gleeful,” Candy said. “I can’t take your camera. I might ruin it.”

 

“If it will save Dipper Pines,” Mrs. Gleeful said. “Besides, I’ve been saving for a newer model.”

 

Gideon gritted his teeth. “I’m going to remember this, Mother dear!”

 

Candy sighed and took out her laptop bag. She removed a small set of tools and unscrewed a panel on the camera. She took a set of tweezers and removed several pieces. She set a particular thin piece of bluish glass on one side, then replaced it with a blackish looking thin film. I guess that was to block visible light. She slowly worked in reverse to put the camera back together, got up and used the camera’s USB camera to connect it to the laptop.

 

Northby took off his jacket and handled it to Dr. Membrillo, Dr. Membrillo laid the jacket flat and took a photo.

 

The photo was projected onto the screen. The black jacket looked white, except for a dark splatter on the right sleeve. Blood.

 

“Ha!” Tracey crowed. “How much do you want to bet that is Toby’s blood? Even though I didn’t see the moment of the crime, you can’t deny the existence of the blood. Why don’t you just admit your crime, Northwest?”

 

“I don’t mean to disrespect you,” Northby replied. “But I am not going to admit to doing something I have no memory of!”

 

“There is no one else it could be,” Tracey said. “Dipper Pines was never at the crime scene. Quattro and I created all that wonderful evidence that Gideon has been presenting this whole trial. Quattro made the fake confession and led Mrs. Gleeful to the crime scene. I couldn’t touch the mud Toby fell in, but I took a sharp stick and wrote that ‘dying message.’” He lifted his hat, revealing where some of his hair had been pulled out violently. “That hair Toby had in his hand came from this.”

 

“Tracey, could I ask you something?” Athena asked.

 

“What?” Tracey asked.

 

“Why do you hate Northby?” She asked.

 

“Why wouldn’t I hate him?” Tracey answered. “Northwest is the reason we’re even here. There was no reason Toby had to die, and it’s all his fault.”

 

“Daddy,” Trucy said to me.

 

“Yes, dear?” I asked.

 

“That last line. You see, I can sense when people tense up when they’re telling lies. But…there was no tension when Tracey said, ‘all his fault.’ I don’t think he’s lying.”

 

“But your power’s not as fine-tuned as Apollo’s,” I said. “Maybe the tension’s too subtle.”

 

That’s why Apollo and Thalassa wore their bracelets. To detect lower levels of tension. But even Apollo’s power has some blind spots. I remembered the UR-1 retrial when he thought Athena had handled the blade that killed Clay Terran, but in actuality she was subconsciously remembering how she cut the Phantom with a similar blade. I shuddered inwardly, still hating that a little girl had to suffer for years because of the Phantom’s evil.

 

Then again, what if Tracey truly believes that Northby is the killer, even if he isn’t? If someone truly believes something, even if it isn’t true, Trucy wouldn’t notice any tension. But why would he think that? Believe in it so strongly? “Why do you say Northby is the killer? You just admitted you were out cold at the time of the murder. Toby was already dead when you woke up.”

 

“There is no one else it could have been,” Tracey retorted. “Do you have proof that anyone else was there?”

 

“I do indeed,” I said. “There were footprints from a lady’s high heeled shoe, as well as a fake red nail.”

 

Tracey snorted. “So you’re gonna accuse Lazy Susan the waitress of the murder?”

 

“No,” I said. “Though Miss...”

 

“Wentworth,” That odd waitress from the diner supplied.

 

“Wentworth,” I continued. “Has red acrylic nails that taper to a point, she served me herself the morning after the murder. All ten of her nails were perfectly intact. However, I know of one person who could have left that nail and footprints. I pointed toward the gallery. “Miss Rona Round!”

 

Rona waved to me. She had on black satin gloves.

 

“Would you kindly remove your gloves?” Athena asked.

 

“I refuse,” she said curtly. “This is an invasion of privacy.”

 

“But nails are a plain-sight item,” Athena began.

 

Suddenly, there was a flash of pink and squealing.

 

“Go, Waddles!” Mabel shrieked.

 

Waddles the pig ran toward Rona and jumped on her, sending her flying back. A goat ran up to her hand and promptly ate her right glove. The gallery erupted in noise.

 

“Order, order, I will have order!” McGucket futilely slammed his gavel. It snapped in two. McGucket stared blankly at the broken handle.

 

Gideon glared at me. “This is all your fault!”

 

“How is this my fault, Prosecutor Gleeful?” I asked.

 

“Your trials are always a circus,” Gideon said.

 

Well, I can’t deny that.

 

“Your foolishness might be tolerated in your hometown, but I will not have my trials turn into such a farce!” Gideon snapped. “A pig in the courtroom is just stupid!”

 

“There’s also a goat,” Athena added.

 

Not helping, Athena.

 

“This trial was already ridiculous,” I said. “We had some guy accuse my junior partner of being a witch, we had a monster testify and provide vital evidence, I’m pretty sure your town coroner is dead inside, the stenographer is a woodpecker, and oh, by the way, the ROOF IS LEAKING!”

 

Waddles…well, waddled away from Rona.

 

“I suppose I should be flattered you wanted to see me so badly,” she said. She held up her right hand. “Does this satisfy your curiosity?”

 

All five nails had an acrylic nail, but the color of the nail on her middle finger was slightly darker than the others. “You glued on a new one recently. The acrylic hasn’t had time to fade. That’s why it doesn’t match the others!”

 

“Not to mention you tried so hard to hide it,” Athena said.

 

“Still, why would I have anything to do with Mr. Determined?” Rona asked. “I never met him. I am only here because my employer asked me to be here. His daughter wanted to watch the trial.” She gave a serene smile.

 

This was just a hunch, but…

 

“Well, Toby Determined was very eager to meet you,” I said.

 

“Was he, now?” She asked, sounding nonchalant.

 

I looked the gallery. Shandra Jimenez was seated in the fifth row. “Ms. Jimenez? Can you come down for a minute?”

 

Shandra stepped down.

 

“Can you stand next to Ms. Round?” I asked.

 

Shandra looked baffled, but she walked up to Rona and stood by her. They were about the same height. Their dark hair fell to about the same length.

 

“Surely you don’t think all Latinas look the same,” Rona said.

 

“Of course not,” I said. “But if you could both turn around,”

 

They turned their backs to me.

 

“Your faces are very distinct from each other, Ms. Round and Ms. Jimenez, but you look rather alike from the back. Toby Determined saw you in Trembley Park from the back. In addition, it was nighttime, so the mistake was even easier to make. He thought you were Ms. Jimenez, and he ran toward you.”

 

“But all I would have to do is turn around,” Rona said. “And then Mr. Determined would realize his mistake and go away, wouldn’t he?”

 

Well, I’m sure there had to be a reason she brained him instead of letting him go on his merry way. But I didn’t have definite proof. “Both of you ladies can return to your seats,” I said. “But Ms. Round, I wouldn’t leave this courtroom if I were you.”

 

This time her smile was a beam. “Oh, so frightening, Mr. Wright.” But she returned to her seat by Preston.

 

“So Toby went to the park because he thought Ms. Jimenez was there?” Athena said thoughtfully.

 

“He just couldn’t take a hint, could he?” Widget chirped from Athena’s neck.

 

And that mistake was fatal. But why? Maybe Toby saw something he shouldn’t have.

 

“Mr. Gleeful?” McGucket asked.

 

“Yes, Your Honor?” Gideon responded.

 

“Do you have any further questions for your witness?” McGucket asked.

 

“No,” Gideon snarled.

 

“The defense has no further questions for Tracey Pines,” I said.

 

“You may step down,” McGucket said.

 

Tracey stood up and returned to Quattro’s side in the gallery. Quattro shot him an angry look, Tracey just smirked and whistled nonchalantly, leading Quattro to fold his arms and scowl.

 

“The defense would like to call Northby Northwest to the stand,” I said. “He was at the crime scene and has valuable testimony.”

 

“OBJECTION!” Gideon cried. “My witness just accused him of the murder.”

 

“OBJECTION!” Athena responded. “Northby has the right to face his accuser!”

 

“Northby?” McGucket asked.

 

“Yes, Mr. McGucket?” Northby said. “I mean, Your Honor? I’m sorry we had to meet again in these circumstances, but you’re…um, dressing better these days.”

 

“Do you two know each other?” Gideon asked.

 

“We met about two years ago,” Northby replied. “At the Trembley Home.”

 

“A-yup,” McGucket said. “You see, my son had me committed! Imagine that!”

 

A man sitting in the gallery called out, “You’re still mad about that? You had just won the town’s Most Likely to Snap and Kill Us All Award for the fifth year in a row!” He was wearing a baseball cap over his fluffy brown hair, a green collared shirt, and brown pants.

 

“This town has a Most Likely to Snap and Kill Us All Award?” I couldn’t stop myself from saying out loud. Then again, I know a lot of people back home who’d be contenders for such an award.

 

“Yeah, Grunkle Stan won that award a few times,” Dipper whispered.

 

“Luckily, I escaped after a week,” McGucket said. “It seemed like a nice place, but they wouldn’t let me tinker with my robots. I hope my destruction of the south ward on my way out taught them to reconsider those rules…”

 

I’d like to say that McGucket’s the craziest judge I’ve ever had, but I’m not so sure about the Judge back home. Or the one from Labyrinthia. Maybe all judges are crazy…

 

“I must say, I never knew Pacifica had a brother,” Gideon said.

 

“My father doesn’t like to talk about me,” Northby said.

 

“Oh?” Gideon said, doing that thing where his voice sounds sickeningly sweet. “I can’t imagine why. You seem like a nice boy.”

 

Boy? I tried not to snicker. The ten year old talking down to the…forget it.  

 

“I do not fit into the perfect narrative my father has constructed of his family,” Northby responded.

 

“Mr. Northwest,” Gideon continued. “Since you have been a guest of the Trembley Home, you do realize I have to take your testimony with a grain of salt?”

 

“I understand,” Northby said.

 

Gideon smirked. “Good. Then I withdraw my objection to this witness.”  

 

“All righty, then,” McGucket said. “Let the witness testify.”

 

Northby got up and moved to the witness stand. He gripped the stand. “But what if that odd clone was telling the truth? What if I really did kill Toby? I remember there was dried blood under my fingernails. I told myself it came from this…” He pushed back the left sleeve of his white shirt to reveal a nasty-looking scratch. “But what if it didn’t? This scratch couldn’t have bled enough to make the stain on the jacket…”

 

“I don’t think you’re the killer,” Athena said. “But you’ve been traumatized, both by this incident and the past. It’s hard, but I’m here with you. I used to be just where you are now. But if I hadn’t remembered, I wouldn’t be the happy person you see here.”

 

“She’s right,” McGucket said. “A long time ago, I saw something that shocked me to my core. I tried to forget it. I even invented the memory gun to erase my bad memories. But I was wrong. The memories are painful, but they’re mine. I don’t want you to suffer what I did.”

 

“I recommend a quick therapy session for our witness,” Athena said brightly. “That is, with Your Honor’s permission.”

 

“If you can help him, please do,” McGucket said. “Gideon, I trust you have no objections.”

 

Gideon smirked. “The prosecution has…no objections. I’m eager to see what Miss Cykes can do with my own eyes.”

 

Gee, way to sound ominous, dear prosecutor.

 

“Let’s do this!” Athena tapped Widget, which opened his holographic screen. A few taps with her gloved hand on the screen and she opened the Mood Matrix.

 

Northby began. “I entered the park through the east entrance and picked up the emergency phone. I was trying to contact my sister.”

 

Fear and surprise lit up.

 

“Then I went toward the entrance of the park,” Northby continued.

 

“Were the clones there?” I asked. Since they seemed to be the only concrete detail he remembered from the murder.

 

“No, not yet,” Northby answered. “I stopped in front of Filltwerp Fountain.”

 

The Mood Matrix showed the happy joy face pulsing brightly.

 

“Did something there fill you with joy?” Athena asked.

 

Northby smiled a little. “My sister and I used to play in Trembley Park. We’d throw specially made golden coins in the fountain and made wishes.”

 

“Wow,” Athena said. “That is incredibly infuriating, but amazing!”

 

“That’s the last thing I remember,” Northby said.

 

“Not so,” I shook my head. “You met the clones. I overheard your conversation with Quattro last night.”

 

“You heard that?” Northby gripped the witness stand.

 

“Boss,” Athena said. “Look at this.” The fearful icon was pulsing, overflowing.

 

“Was the night of the murder your first meeting with the clones?” I asked.

 

“Yes,” Northby said. “I met them in the park, just as Tracey Pines testified. But I didn’t kill Toby. At least, I don’t think I did.”

 

“Let me ask you something,” I said. “When Quattro asked you to come with him, you refused point-blank. Why? You can’t remember the events of the murder, but you seemed determined not to come with him. Even though Quattro said that his life and the life of his brother Tracey were at stake.”

 

“Please, Mr. Wright,” Northby begged. “Don’t tug on that thread. There are some doors you should leave closed. Questions you shouldn’t ask…”

 

I glanced at the Mood Matrix. The fear icon was buzzing rapidly.

 

“I’m getting an overflow error,” Athena observed. “We need to narrow down the cause of the rampant emotions.”

 

“I already know. Quattro admitted he was trying to capture Northby and turn him in to his father.”

 

“Why am I not surprised?” Athena asked. “Northby, you’re safe with us. Your father can’t hurt you.”

 

“My father…?” Northby asked. He glanced at the audience.

 

Preston’s face remained neutral.

 

 Athena fed some data into the Mood Matrix. The fear icon was buzzing, but back to within normal limits. To be fair, Northby has more fear of his father than normal kids, but the fear was no longer blocking out all other emotional responses.

 

“I remember…” Northby said. “I called my sister’s cell phone number from the emergency phone. But my father picked up.”

 

“Objection!” came a female voice, but not Athena. “That’s wrong,” Pacifica said. She held up her cell phone. She had made a new cord for the turtle charm. “My phone doesn’t have a record of your call. My phone didn’t receive any calls the night of the murder.”

 

“Phone data can be manipulated,” I replied. “Maybe your father had your phone at some point and deleted the call so you wouldn’t know your brother tried to call you. After all, he lied about your brother’s whereabouts.”

 

“But my cell phone needs a password to access it,” Pacifica replied. “You’d think I’d let my parents snoop through my phone? That’s like Teenager 101! So there’s no way my father could have answered my phone. Maybe my brother accidentally called my father’s office number…”

 

Well, there is a phone in Preston’s office. I saw it last night. Though it seems Preston uses his cell phone to make calls instead of the landline like most people. “Did your father say anything, Northby?”

 

He blushed. “I can’t say in front of ladies.”

 

“Let me guess, ‘get your ass home’?” Athena asked.

 

“Words to that effect,” Northby answered. “I remember telling him to come get me himself. I was weak from hunger and exhaustion, and all of my escape plans fell through. I thought if I threw myself at his mercy, he’d relent and not send me back to the Trembley Home.”

 

“So, you basically traded your dignity for security?” Gideon asked.

 

“I admit it,” Northby said. “It seemed like my best option. I told him to meet me at Filltwerp Fountain in Trembley Park. I picked a public place, so he’d be less likely to try anything…unsavory. But I was wrong. He sent his thugs to intercept me.”

 

“And by thugs, you mean the clones?” I asked.

 

Hmm. Quattro seemed to know Preston personally. He made that odd statement about strict orders. Rona was there at the crime scene. And she’s a link between Preston and the clones. “What about Rona Round?”

 

“What about her?” Northby asked. “She wasn’t there…?”

 

The fear spiked on the Mood Matrix. The noise level increased. Which indicates that Northby isn’t telling the truth about Rona being there. “We could match her heels to the footprints. And she’s missing a nail. And…your father was there too. I’ve seen this behavior before. You’re covering for your father because you’re afraid he’ll come after your sister.”

 

“You can’t prove my father was present at the crime scene,” Northby replied. “And the clones would have mentioned his presence before.”

 

“They haven’t, because they’re terrified of him too,” I said. “Quattro’s behavior last night confirms that. Rona works for your father. You told your father to come get you himself. I’ve met your father. He’s not the type back down from that kind of challenge.”

 

Northby winced. “Please…”

 

“Your father was present at the crime scene, and I can prove it! Tracey, under oath, said ‘it’s Northwest’s fault.’ We were supposed to assume he meant Northby, but he really meant Preston.”

 

“That’s reaching,” Gideon said.

 

“Northby Selznick Northwest,” Preston said. “Hasn’t this stupidity gone far enough?”

 

“Preston Northwest,” I countered. “Would you mind showing us your signet ring?”

 

Preston’s eyes narrowed. “Why? My son was careless enough to lose his. I’d rather not take mine off.”

 

Hmm. “Dr. Membrillo,” I said. “Would you mind showing me the ring the Gremlobin took from the crime scene?”

 

“The ultrasonic cleaner broke trying to clean that monstrosity,” Dr. Membrillo said, handing me the plastic bag. “I had to finish the cleaning process with a toothbrush to remove the gastric juice and dirt.”

 

I gazed at the ring. A third letter, just as I suspected: P. N. N. Dr. Membrillo was in a hurry getting that photo, so he accidentally tilted the ring so only the two N’s were visible. And Preston gave Northby’s middle initial away. “Pacifica, what’s your dad’s middle name?” I whispered.

 

“Nathaniel,” she whispered back. “Why?”

 

I addressed my next words to Preston. “Because the Gremlobin didn’t take Northby’s ring and swallow it for safekeeping! The ring at the crime scene is yours, Preston Nathaniel Northwest!”

 

He held up his left hand. “I have my ring right here.”

 

“Then show us the initials,” I said. “Pacifica said only male scions can wear the ring, and her initials are P.E.N anyway. I saw her embroidered handkerchief last night with my own eyes. If the initials on the ring you’re wearing are N.S.N., then you have an awful lot of explaining to do.”

 

“Do I?” Preston asked.

 

Preston’s wife yawned. “Just show them the damn ring, Preston. If you keep refusing, they’re just going to think you’re suspicious.”

 

“Don’t you think I realize that, Priscilla?!” Preston snapped. “I didn’t marry you for your brains. Even if I’m wearing my son’s ring right now, that doesn’t mean anything!”

 

“There is one more piece of evidence linking you to the crime,” I said. I took out the flash drive and gave it to Athena. She plugged it into one of the ports in back of Widget, and the images of the murder weapon appeared on the holographic screen. There was an image of the rock itself, with where the smudged fingerprints were on the actual rock marked in bright red. There was a second image of a CGI mock-up of Dipper’s hands holding the rock. As I guessed, there was a discrepancy between the two images. Dipper’s fingers were not in the same positions as the fingerprints. In addition, the fingerprints were spaced farther apart, indicating someone with much bigger hands had handled the rock. “Dipper and Northby have about the same size hands. And the position of the fingerprints on the rock used to bludgeon Toby Determined indicate a much larger hand. An adult.” And Rona’s hands were rather small. This hand size indicates a man…

 

“I don’t mean to burst your bubble,” Preston replied, slipping his ring off his finger. “But this ring is…” He paled as he read the initials.

 

“Are you ready to at least testify about your role in this crime?” Athena asked.

 

Preston growled. “The one time you obey me, Northby! Why aren’t you more like me? I keep trying to teach you how to behave, but you won’t listen!”

 

“So you admit you were there?” Gideon asked dryly.

 

“No, it’s a vicious lie!” Preston retorted. “So what if someone with larger hands handled the rock? There are plenty of men in Gravity Falls with similar hand size. Perhaps my son’s ring and mine were switched before the…incident. I visited him frequently at the asylum, after all.”

 

“So you deny killing Toby?” I asked.

 

 “Why would I want to kill that worthless peasant?” Preston asked.

 

“Worthless?” Northby repeated. He clutched his head.

 

I felt the magatama pulsing in my suit pocket. I reached in my pocket and held it tight. Northby’s black locks were quivering.

 

“No further outbursts, Northby,” Preston said. “It’s time you returned home to your mother.”

 

Northby whimpered as the locks shattered. “I remember everything.”

 

“How do you feel?” Athena asked.

 

“I wish I had never remembered,” Northby said. “Please, let me testify once more. You have to believe me. Dipper Pines is in danger!”

 

We turned toward Preston, who simply gave us a smirk.

 

“I rescind my earlier order,” Preston said. “Say all you want, my son. Soon you’ll realize how foolish you’re being by rejecting the plans I have for my family. To serve my needs is your purpose in life. You exist for nothing else!”

 

“Ugh,” Athena said. “You’re an awful father.”

 

“Why do you criticize my parenting methods?” Preston asked. “Isn’t my son a well-behaved boy when he wants to be?”

 

“He told me about how you tied him up,” Athena retorted. “What kind of father does that?!”

 

“Well, he isn’t fidgeting anymore, is he?” Preston responded coolly.

 

“And I know about that marriage you tried to set up for Pacifica,” Athena said.

 

“Oh?” Preston looked intrigued. “And how do you know about that, Ms. Cykes?”

 

Athena smiled. “Because Simon Blackquill is a close friend of mine. He called to tell me what an utter douchebag you are.”

 

Preston looked to Rona.

 

“She has known Prosecutor Blackquill since her childhood,” Rona said.

 

Preston clearly decided not to press further.

 

I’m so proud of Athena. She can bluff so effortlessly. I’ve taught her well.

 

To be continued


	7. Denouement

 

Author’s Note: I kept forgetting to put this in earlier chapters, but I know the timeline is kind of weird since the finale to Gravity Falls took place on August 31, 2012 and this is after Spirit of Justice in 2028. Professor Layton versus Phoenix Wright, Ace Attorney simply didn’t care about the timeline, but if you need an explanation, there was a time dilation when Bill blew up Time Baby. So what happened in 2012 shifted to 2028, so instead of Dipper and Mabel being born August 31, 1999, they were now born August 31, 2015, Ford fell through the portal in 1998 instead of 1982, and so on and so forth. I know some of the time references are now off, but it is what it is.  

 

XXX

 

_The water flowed from Filltwerp Fountain calmly, serenely. The moss growing at the base of the fountain had advanced and some of the carvings on the fountain had been weathered by erosion, but the fountain seemed close to what Northby remembered. He looked at the water, wondering if it was safe to drink. His throat burned. The groundwater around Gravity Falls was likely contaminated, so he had kept to drinking fountains or sneaking sips of water from garden hoses or the dregs of discarded bottled water._

_His stomach was growling too. He had eaten some berries in the woods, but they made him vomit very shortly. Worse, they had left him so nauseous that the thought of eating made him queasy. But hunger pains were quickly eclipsing the lingering stomach upset._

_It was too dark to see his reflection in the water. He was thankful for that: face and hair streaked with dirt, clothes torn and filthy. He’d never be allowed to go out in public looking like this ordinarily._

_This late at night, there was no traffic at the nearby street. The clicking of his father’s wingtips was audible from the direction of the main entrance. A Pavlovian instinctual fear gripped Northby._

_“So the prodigal son decided to show up,” came Preston’s condescending voice._

_Northby cringed and turned around. “Father.” Hating himself, he dropped to his knees. “I’m sorry for running away, but I beg you! I don’t want to go back to the Trembley Home! I’ll do anything. I’ll never fight back…” He held up his left hand. “See? I’m wearing the ring. I could have sold it, but I kept it.”_

_“Prove it,” Preston said. “Kiss the ring.”_

_Northby shuddered, glancing at his dirt-covered left hand._

_“Ah, the Northwest aversion to dirt,” Preston observed. “Maybe you really have changed.”_

_“Yes,” Northby said. “I’m tired of running, so just let me go home…”_

_“My dear son,” Preston said. “I don’t have any intention of sending you back to the asylum.”_

_Tears formed at the corners of Northby’s eyes. “Really?! You have no idea how happy that makes me!”_

_Northby felt his arms being seized and pinned behind his back. “What…?”_

_“I’d like you to meet my newest assistants,” Preston said. “They’re clones.”_

_“You mean, Dr. Chiu’s research was complete?” Northby asked, glancing back at his current captors. Two boys, seemingly his age, wearing identical ensembles with only the numbers on their hats different: 3 and 4._

_“Oh, they aren’t Dr. Chiu’s work,” Preston explained. “His work is impeccable. You should know. You’re his work, too. No, I am not sure how these clones of the Pines brat came to be. They’re sensitive to moisture, but they follow orders.”_

_“Father, please, this really isn’t necessary,” Northby said. “I’ll come quietly.”_

_The clone with the 3 hat scoffed. The one with the 4 hat’s grip on his arm loosened ever so slightly._

_“Tell me, how is Pacifica?” Northby asked. “Is she well?”_

_“Why should I tell you?” Preston asked. “You’ll never see her again.”_

_“Why not?” Northby asked. “Surely you aren’t going to send her away?”_

_“Ugh,” the clone with the 3 hat said. “You’re so slow on the uptake, Northwest. This whole thing was a trap! Your father sold you to a demon!”_

_“What?!” Northby cried. “Father, if this is some sort of sick joke, it isn’t the least bit funny…”_

_“He’s telling the truth,” Preston said._

_A strange woman walked toward them from the park’s main entrance. Despite her frilly looking black and red dress, she gave off an ominous aura. “Northby, I rejoice to see you again!”_

_“Who are you?” Northby asked. “How do you know my name?”_

_“I’m your mother,” she replied. “Now give me a hug and a kiss.”_

_“Mother?” Northby asked, perplexed. “Madame, you are mistaken. Priscilla Northwest is my mother.”_

_“Oh, I’m not currently your mother,” she replied. “But I was a long time ago.”_

_“Father, how are you going to explain my absence to my mother…my real mother?” Northby asked. “She won’t be happy you sold her son to a demon. Don’t you have any regards for her feelings at all?”_

_“No,” Preston responded curtly. “Of course, I am not so unkind as to send you off with a strange woman alone. Soon, the clones will deliver Dipper Pines to Miss Rona here. So you won’t be lonely for very long.”_

_“What are you getting out of this?” Northby asked._

_“Rona gave me ten million dollars in advance,” Preston responded. “With the promise of another ten million once she has you and the Pines boy. I can invest that money and grow it to enough to build a new Northwest Manor grander than the first.”_

_“At the cost of countless lives like the first?” Northby asked._

_“I’m going to miss this verbal sparring,” Preston commented. “Not to mention seeing you cry. Your replacement won’t be as weak-willed as you.”_

_“Wait,” Northby tried to come up with another tactic to stall. “How do you know that money’s real? What if it’s fake? And if your checks bounce…”_

_“Just give it up,” the clone with 3 hat snapped, clearly exasperated. “Stop trying to talk your way out of it. You’re lucky this isn’t going to end with your throat cut on some altar.”_

_Northby whimpered._

_Suddenly, the part of the brain that operated Northby’s self-preservation instincts woke up. “No!” Northby pulled his right arm toward the left, bringing one clone – who was surprisingly light – toward the other. The clones were caught by surprise, allowing Northby to slip from their grip and slam their heads together. They crumpled to the ground unconscious._

_“I knew it,” Preston said. “That submission was just an act. You’re the same disappointment to the family you’ve always been.”_

_“Good!” Northby snapped. “Because I hate everything this disgusting family stands for!”_

_Rona moved toward Northby. “And you will never have to worry about your family’s name again. Calm down and come with me.”_

_Northby backed away from her. “I’ll scream.”_

_“No one will come to help,” Rona replied. “I don’t want to have to use force, but if I must…”_

_“Then I’ll use force,” Preston used the distraction to seize Northby, who squeaked in protest, and threw him toward the nearest tree. Northby landed at the base of the tree, his back to the trunk. An alder. Northby tried to stand up. Rona seized his wrists and slammed them to the trunk above his head, effectively pinning him to the tree._

_Preston lifted a nearby large rock and tested the weight in his hands. “She’s adamant about how she needs both you and Dipper Pines alive, but I think she will overlook some slight damage on delivery.” He raised the rock and prepared to bring it down on Northby’s leg._

_Northby squirmed, but Rona’s grip was like iron. His left leg kicked out at Preston, managing to catch Preston’s shin._

_Preston cried out, and his grip slipped on the rock. His ring, slick from hand sweat, fell to the ground unnoticed. He regained his grip on the rock and raised it once more…_

_“I’m coming, Shandra!” An odd-looking man cried, running in from the park entrance. “Wait, you’re not Shandra…”_

_Preston turned and slammed the man’s right temple with the rock. A sickening crunch filled the air. The man sank, blood oozing liberally from the wound_

_Rona herself seemed surprised and she let go of Northby’s wrists._

_“What did you do?!” Northby cried, sinking down to the ground where the man fell. He crawled to the prone Toby._

_Rona grabbed Northby’s left hand. Her nails dragged along his left wrist, leaving an ugly scratch mark. In her haste, she also dislodged the silicone ring adjuster Northby was wearing, causing his own signet ring to obey gravity. The second ring fell to the ground nearby, along with one of Rona’s dislodged acrylic nails._

_Northby managed to put his right hand to Toby’s head wound, where some blood oozed onto his jacket sleeve. “He needs to go to a hospital…” He jerked his left hand again, freeing himself from Rona’s grip and applied more pressure. “Father, please! You need to call for help”_

_“You do not give me orders,” Preston answered icily._

_“But he’ll die if we do nothing!” Northby cried._

_“I fail to see your point,” Preston said. “Peasants are like leaves on a tree. If one has to fall, there are a thousand others to take its place.”_

_Northby withdrew his hands and grimaced at the blood on his fingers. His stomach lurched. He grabbed a handful of mud from the ground and threw it in Rona’s face, then staggered to his feet and ran through the nearest patch of mud, in the direction of the east entrance to the park. Rona growled and wiped the mud from her face before pursuing him. Her stiletto heels sank into the ground. He heard two last things as he tried to put some distance between him and his pursuers:_

_“After him!” Preston snapped._

_“I can’t!” Rona retorted. “I’m stuck!”_

 

XXX

 

“I managed to get to the convenience store near the east entrance and I collapsed,” Northby ended his narrative. “Fortunately, Mabel hid me in the Mystery Shack. I convinced her not to tell her brother, but because I said nothing, Dipper Pines is still in danger.”

 

“Why is she after us?” Dipper asked, looking toward Rona. “I’ve never seen this lady before in my admittedly very crazy life.”

 

“I don’t know,” Northby said apologetically. “But it has to be something nefarious.”

 

Rona said nothing, just sat there calmly. Pleading the fifth, I guess.

 

And we’ve come to the truth of this trial. Toby Determined stumbled on some…plot between Rona Round and Preston Northwest, only to become collateral damage.

 

“Well, we know one thing for sure. Toby Determined died as he lived,” commented Dipper. “Pursuing a woman way out of his league.”

 

“By the way, Dipper,” Athena said. “What were you doing at the convenience store? I know Soos was waiting for the takeout, Mabel was buying candy…?”

 

Dipper sighed. “I was absorbed in one of my experiments…”

 

“What experiment?” Mabel asked.

 

“I was making myself a chili cheese dog to tie me over until we could get to the Shack and have our proper meal,” Dipper said. “And I noticed the cheese kind of…not melted, even when it was hot. So I took a lighter and lit it up, and it burned. And then I kind of wanted to see if all of the cheese products would burn rather than melt, so I bought the lighter and one of each cheese item available. I blame Grunkle Ford.”

 

“Your Honor, I move to indict Preston Northwest,” I said.

 

McGucket looked to Gideon. “What do you say, Prosecutor?”

 

Gideon looked irritated. “I need a second opinion.”

 

“From D.A. Strange?” Roquefort asked.

 

“No,” Gideon looked toward Mabel. “Mabel, dear, would it make you happy if I agreed with Mr. Wright?”

 

Mabel smirked, her braces seeming to glow in the harsh fluorescent light. “It would make me very happy.”

 

Gideon slammed his fist on the prosecutor’s bench. “Then indict the bastard!”

 

“You really are a lousy lawyer,” Tracey said.

 

“Shut up, paper boy,” Gideon responded. “I have a prosecutor’s badge!”

 

McGucket looked to Preston. “Do you have anything to say?”

 

“I do indeed.” Preston stepped from the gallery and took a seat on the witness stand. He held a soft-looking adult fox in his lap, which he idly stroked like some sort of Bond villain.

 

Well, at least he isn’t swirling a wine glass, ala Engarde.

 

“You plan to indict me based on some shaky evidence, plus the testimony of my poor, insane, delusional son?” Preston asked. “I can easily have the indictment thrown out. Neither the witness nor the presiding judge is of sane mind and body, after all.”

 

“And you’ll get away with it?” Dipper’s hands curled into fists.

 

“Boy, I told you before,” Preston said. “I am a Northwest. My family discovered long ago that if we threw enough money at a problem, we could make anything true. So either the truth is malleable, or we’re gods on earth. Either way, I win. But none of you truly believe this liar that unfortunately bears half my DNA.”

 

“A lot of kids don’t come forward about abuse because they’re afraid no one will believe them,” Trucy said. “But I believe Northby. I guess you could say I have a good instinct for these kinds of things.”

 

“Right,” Preston said. “You and Little Miss Lawyer, plus the misguidedly righteous Mr. Wright. But you would have to convince Mr. Strange. And what you have is not enough, I’m afraid. You might be able to get the charges against Dipper Pines dropped due to insufficient evidence, but to have me indicted is another matter. I offer you one final chance to join me. If you refuse, then there will consequences.”

 

“And by ‘join you’, you want us to withdraw our indictment against you and simply ask for the charges against Dipper to be dropped?” I asked.

 

“It would be the optimal solution,” Preston said. “And it is what you seek: that Dipper Pines is no longer charged with murder.”

 

“We refuse,” Athena said. “We could get a conviction on you. We just need some…more…evidence…”

 

“Uh oh,” Widget squeaked out.

 

“We’ll testify against you, Northwest, you bastard!” Quattro snarled, jumping up from his seat. “When we came to after Northby knocked us out, you ordered us to clean up the crime scene, eliminate any trace of your presence, and leave evidence pointing to Dipper.”

 

“Shut up, Quattro,” Tracey snapped. “He’ll kill us!”

 

“He was always going to kill us,” Quattro said. “One of us would take Dipper Classic’s place before the execution, but you think he’d let the other go? Why should we protect him anymore? Just screw him!”  

 

Tracey pinched the bridge of his nose. “All right. What Quattro said…”

 

XXX

_Tracey woke up blearily. He felt the side of his head, where his ink-blood had pooled. It felt like tissue paper. “You okay, Quattro?”_

_“Ngh,” Quattro said._

_Tracey looked up to a glaring Preston. “Where’s Northby?”_

_“Running scared,” Preston replied icily. “Rona’s tracing him. How could you let him get away?”_

_“It wasn’t a fair fight,” Tracey said._

_“You had two on one odds!” Preston retorted._

_“In our defense, we are made of paper…” Quattro said._

_“Then why didn’t you paper tigers tie him up?” Preston demanded._

_“Because we’re not jerks like you?” Quattro said._

_“I’m sorry,” Preston said. “Were you asking if Filltwerp Fountain’s name will take on a whole new meaning?”_

_Quattro fell quiet but glowered at Preston._

 

XXX

 

“Not to mention you never even had to go to the park,” Tracey said. “Rona could have gone on her own, but you wanted to see the look on his face when he realized you had sold him out. Literally.”

 

“Well, isn’t a father obligated to say his goodbyes to his son?” Preston asked.

 

“Are you going to keep denying that you’re a murderer, Dad?” Pacifica asked.

 

“Et tu, Pacifica? You don’t believe me?” Preston asked, barely even sounding hurt.

 

“I believe Northby,” Pacifica answered. “If he says you killed him, then you killed him.”

 

“Very well,” Preston said. “I admit it. I killed that odd-looking excuse of a man. It’s not like any of you wouldn’t have done the same. You crossed the street to avoid him.”

 

“Dude, none of us liked Toby,” Robbie said from the gallery. “But that doesn’t give you the right to bash his brains out.”

 

Preston continued to stroke his fox, who seemed pleased with being held. “Well, this settles the matter of this trial. We have determined that Dipper Pines is not guilty. Slam down your little gavel, Mr. McGucket. I want to get this over with before the stock market closes.”

 

“Maybe you are right,” Dipper began. “So what if we can’t get you on Toby’s murder? How about your other crimes? You tried to kidnap me! And what you’re doing borders on human trafficking!”

 

“Oh, thank you,” Preston said sarcastically. “I knew it was something bad guys did. I just couldn’t think of the technical term.”

 

“Ugh, he has no remorse whatsoever,” Athena said. “Hearing the satisfaction in his voice is almost making me ill.”

 

I don’t need Athena’s special ears to feel the confidence coming off Preston in waves. He’s just been found out for murder and kidnapping, not to mention making a deal with some sort of demon. Yet, he’s as nonchalant as any of my witnesses-who-turn-out-to-be-the-bad-guy before I apply the pressure. There’s something very wrong here…

 

“Why did you do this, Dad?” Pacifica asked. “Why Dipper and my brother?! Why are you working for this evil witch?!”

 

Preston laughed. “Oh, you’re mistaken. I never worked for Rona. She works for me!”

 

“Um, what’s the difference?” Durland asked.

 

“Allow me to demonstrate,” Preston said. “Rona, teach these peasants their place.”

 

A cold wind blew through the courtroom, even though there it was honestly stuffy a moment ago. Large green vines sprouted amongst the gallery, making the hapless audience cry out in horror. The vines trapped them in coils, save for Wendy, Soos and Manly Dan. Wendy and Dan hacked away at the vegetation growing near them, while Soos was using a chainsaw. The clones also managed to evade the vegetation trap.

 

I looked at the bench. It remained normal, but the linoleum floor was replaced by what looked like black glass or ice. I bent down to touch it. It was smooth like glass.

 

Mabel grabbed onto Dipper, but no vines sprouted near the kids. Maybe because Pacifica was with them? Speaking of whom…?

 

“Dad, what are you doing?!” Pacifica demanded.

 

“I have shifted the courtroom into my astral field,” Rona explained. “And in my field, my will dominates everything. Including your lives.”

 

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Pacifica snapped.

 

“Pacifica, maybe you shouldn’t antagonize the insane demon lady…?” Dipper said nervously.

 

There was a sputtering sound. “Uh oh,” said Soos, as his chainsaw clearly ran out of gas.

 

“Protect the lawyers and kids,” Wendy said. “We’ll handle this.”

 

Soos ran over to us.

 

“OBJECTION!” Gideon’s screech rang through the courtroom. “How dare you commandeer my courtroom! McGucket, don’t just stand there! Have him held in contempt of court…”

 

“Rona,” Preston said. “Why don’t you turn this little pretend prosecutor into something more fitting?”

 

“Yes, Mr. Northwest,” Rona said. She raised her arm, and white smoke billowed around Gideon. When the smoke cleared, there was a pig, wearing Gideon’s suit. He still had his pompadour, but his now triangular ears poked out of his hairstyle. And he had a curly tail that twitched.

 

Dipper clapped his hand over his mouth to suppress laughter, which came out in little snorts.

 

“Yeah, I was afraid something like that might happen…” McGucket said. “Mama always said not to challenge a man with a demon on his shoulder. Or was that a chip on his shoulder? Consarnit, my memory’s like Swiss cheese these days…”  

 

Roquefort nervously held up a hand mirror to Gideon. Gideon saw his reflection, and an expression of horror rippled across his piggy face. He started oinking rapidly, trying to run, but only falling down.

 

“Hey, little dude, I was a pig too once,” Soos said reassuringly. “It wasn’t that bad!”

 

“He’s adorable!” Mabel stood up and ran over to the prosecutor’s bench. She grabbed Pig-Gideon and began nuzzling his cheek to hers.

 

Gideon seemed to calm down, but Waddles cocked his head and oinked in confusion.

 

“Are you okay, Athena?” I asked.

 

“Yeah,” Athena said. “Wait. Where’s Trucy?”

 

Trucy popped up from under the defense bench. “Sorry. I was helping Northby.”

 

“With what?” I asked…

 

“Father,” Northby was standing on a chair. “Stop this madness!”

 

“You aren’t in any position to bargain,” Preston replied. “Also, I am no longer in a good mood.”

 

Northby drew a sword.

 

“You won’t attack me,” Preston said. “You aren’t ruthless enough. And Rona can’t die.”  

 

“I’m not going to hurt Rona,” Northby held the sword point to his own throat. “She needs me alive. You said so the night of the murder. Let everyone in this courtroom go, or I’ll kill myself!”

 

Surprisingly, Rona stiffened. “Mijo, don’t do anything hasty…”

 

Hey, I recognize that sword. It’s the one Trucy uses in her tricks…ohhh….

 

“Northby, please!” I said, playing along. “Suicide is not worth it!”

 

“I’ll shift the courtroom back,” Rona said. “Just don’t hurt yourself.”

 

Northby lowered the sword. “How do I know if I can believe you?” 

 

Rona teleported next to him and grabbed the sword from his hand. “You don’t.” She ran one of the fingers of her left hand on the blade. Predictably, it didn’t cut her finger. “A trick!” She threw the fake sword to the side, where it landed on the glass floor. Then she seized Northby by his collar. “Preston, what do you suggest for this little practical joke?”

 

“I’d say make him wish he really did cut his throat,” Preston answered.

 

Rona set Northby gently down in the chair. Chains seemingly made of the same black material as the floor materialized, pinning him in place.

 

Northby’s face paled and he began to hyperventilate.

 

Rona turned to Tracey. “Tracey, dear. I want you to tell Northby here exactly how you feel about him.”

 

Tracey looked perplexed, but he approached Northby anyway. “How does it feel to be the Prince of the Damned?”

 

“Are you calling me the Devil?!” Northby asked, clearly confused as well.

 

“No, your father is the Devil,” Tracey answered. “But I guess that makes you a little hellspawn. The ring, that outfit…maybe you should have been named Preston Northwest Junior.”

 

“I’m not my father,” Northby replied.

 

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, but you aren’t fooling anyone,” Tracey continued. “You know why looking at you fills me with rage? It’s because you stood on the stand and insisted you were a complete victim. If you hadn’t been stupid enough to walk right into your father’s trap, none of this would have happened. Oh, but Toby’s life isn’t the first you’ve destroyed, is it? Does the name Xavier Lesenfants ring a bell?”

 

Northby whimpered. “Please, stop…”

 

“He left behind two kids, you know,” Tracey said. “Not to mention if he had lived and continued his illustrious child advocacy career, he would have saved countless more victims of child abuse. But even if that wasn’t your fault, you’re still disgusting. You’ve convinced yourself you’re some paragon of virtue. But you’re every bit as spoiled, self-serving, and entitled as your parents and sister! And don’t use your residence in the Trembley Home as some excuse. Maybe I’d have some sympathy for you if you were in one of those horrible asylums where anyone can have anything done to them, but the Trembley Home is basically a resort…”

 

“Well, how would you like to be locked up in the Trembley Home?!” Mabel snapped. “Away from your family?”

 

“It’s three meals a day, free healthcare, a warm soft bed, a roof over my head and Dipper Classic would be locked out,” Tracey replied. “Sounds great to me.”

 

“Don’t listen to this third-rate knock off, Northby!” Pacifica said. “He’s just jealous.”

 

“Why would I be jealous of him?” Tracey asked. “He’s a coward. He hid behind Lesenfants, ruined his life, and caused his suicide. And he’s hiding behind Mr. Wright and Mabel now. At least my original fought his own battles!”

 

“Where did this sadism come from?” Dipper asked. “Can’t you see he’s in pain?”

 

“I’ve had to do a lot of ugly things for survival,” Tracey answered. “Besides, Dipper Classic, you never thought of Quattro and me once after you came back from Piedmont.”

 

“Only because I thought you guys had been dissolved by the Chubasco downpours!” Dipper insisted. “I never wished you dead. I don’t hate you. At least, not as much as that doppelganger of me Mabel made that skateboards everywhere and talks in catchphrases.” He shuddered.

 

“Hold that thought while I finish telling this pampered brat exactly how I feel,” Tracey said, turning back to Northby. “I knew you wouldn’t kill yourself. You don’t have the guts. But everyone would be better off if you were dead.”

 

Tears streamed down Northby’s face. “I realize that!”

 

“Northby, do you have anything to say to the court?” Preston asked. “How do you feel?”

 

“I wish…” Northby said between sniffles. “That when I fell off the roof of the Trembley Home, I died on impact.”

 

I looked to Trucy and Athena. “Please tell me he’s not serious…”

 

They looked sad and shook their heads.

 

“Not what I expected,” Preston said. “But you got the results I wanted.”

 

“Don’t I always?” Rona asked.

 

Dipper stood up. “THAT’S ENOUGH! You’re a monster, Northwest! You’re worse than Bill!”

 

Preston looked flustered. “Now, why would you compare me to…that entity?”  

 

“Because that little pointy asshat was an Eldritch abomination. Evil’s in his nature,” Dipper said. “Besides, he never tormented his own son.”

 

“Mr. Northwest?” Candy called from the gallery. “How is threatening everyone here a part of your plan?”

 

Preston stroked the fox again. “It wasn’t. But since Mr. Wright refused to back down, I had to take some drastic measures. Rona will take her prizes and erase everyone’s memories of what just happened.”

 

“She can do that?” Grenda asked.

 

“She can do whatever I want her to,” Preston answered. “But more than that, this entire town has been laughing at me behind my back ever since I lost a sizable amount of the Northwest coffers. You peasants need to relearn your place. Even if you forget what happened in this pocket dimension, you’ll still remember the fear. You won’t be laughing at me anymore.”

 

“And let me guess. You’re going to use this situation to strong-arm Northby and me into surrendering ourselves to her,” Dipper said. “Threaten to hurt our sisters if we don’t comply.”

 

“Don’t be silly, dearie,” Rona replied. “I’m not into hurting innocent little girls. How about you agree to go with me if I allow you to take your sisters with you?”

 

“Never,” Dipper replied. “Even if you agreed not to hurt them, you’d still be kidnapping them.”

 

“And you’re reducing them to objects,” Northby said. “They’re not toys we play with. They’re complex individuals with their own autonomy.”

 

Rona sighed. “I suppose this was to be expected. I am proud of you, though. Such developed moral compasses…”  

 

“Take care of this Rona,” ordered Preston. “I grow bored of this.”

 

“No,” Rona said.

 

“I’m sorry,” Preston said. “I must not have heard right. Do whatever necessary to end this nonsense. Kill everyone but my family and Dipper Pines if you need to.”

 

“And I just said no.” Rona replied.

 

“You can’t say no,” Preston said. “We made a contract. You’d obey me in exchange for Dipper Pines and my son.”

 

She nodded. “Of course. The deal would end once they both were in my possession.”

 

“You see? You cannot fight me,” Preston said.

 

“The deal’s over,” Rona said. “The boys are in my possession now. They’re in my astral field. The deal ended the second I shifted the courtroom into this field.”

 

Preston sputtered. “But why have you been obeying me?”

 

“Because I wanted to see if you could hang yourself, given enough rope.” That serene smile was back. “You never had the strength to control me. And now the weight of your crimes will come crashing down on your shoulders.”

 

“They’ll arrest you, too,” Preston responded. “You’ve basically held this entire courtroom hostage.”

 

“They won’t,” Rona said.

 

“You sound confident in that, Ms. Round,” I said. “Why is that?”

 

“Because under Gravity Falls law, I can’t be charged with anything,” Rona turned to the mayor. “Isn’t that right, Mayor?”

 

“I don’t understand…” Mayor Cutebike stammered.

 

“The Never Mind All That Act,” Rona said.

 

“But that was about Weirdmageddon and Bill Cipher!” interjected Soos.

 

“Show me in the law where it specifies only Bill Cipher,” Rona said.

 

McGucket pulled out a heavy tome, turned toward the end, and started flipping through it frantically.

 

“Who’d have thought ‘all that’ really meant all that?” Rona said.

 

“Never mind the Never Mind All That Act,” Mayor Cutebike cried out. “Git…git…git her!”

 

“I would,” Blubs said. “But we’re still kind of…stuck.”

 

“Oh,” Cutebike said. “Right.”

 

“I’m so sorry that my planned reunion with my boys didn’t go…as planned,” Rona said. “But I know they’re mine, and they will begin to miss me soon. I’ve learned a skill very few mortals have mastered: to wait. And so I will wait.”

 

“Rona, please…” Preston begged. “Maybe you’re not bound by the contract anymore, but maybe you can do me a small favor…”

 

“Have I ever told you how much you remind me of my ex?” Rona replied.

 

The fox in Preston’s lap disappeared in a puff of smoke. The vines binding the audience members dissolved as well. There was a poof and Gideon was back to normal.

 

Rona herself was gone. And the courtroom seemed to be normal once again, faded floor and all.

 

Gideon shook his fist. “If any pictures of me as a pig surface on the internet…”

 

“Why me?” Preston moaned. “Even that replica she made of my dear Hunter is gone. Oh, Hunter, why did you have to run away?! You were the only one who understood me…”

 

Blubs took out his handcuffs and approached the melancholy and defeated Preston. “It gives me great pleasure to finally be able to say this. Preston Northwest, you are under arrest for the murder of Toby Determined. You are also under arrest for kidnapping and being an all-around double-damned no good son of a bitch.”

 

Needless to say, Preston was not pleased as Blubs cuffed his hands behind his back and began leading him out of the courtroom. “Get your filthy hands off me! I’m a Northwest! I’ll get all of you for this!” His shouts faded as he was led out.

 

“Well, that takes care of that,” McGucket said. “But there’s one thing that’s bothering me…”

 

One thing?!

 

“I can explain as much as I can,” Tracey offered.

 

“Great,” McGucket said.

 

“Yesterday, Rona figured out that Northby was hiding in the one place in Gravity Falls she couldn’t reach. The Mystery Shack. There’s a magic ward that prevents any demon from entering. We guessed Northby was too shaken up by witnessing the murder and therefore wouldn’t put up much of a fight.” Tracey gave a tiny smirk. “And I asked Rona for those syringes just in case, along with the rope and duct tape. After Northby gave me a concussion the night of the murder, I wasn’t taking any chances. Quattro, Rona, and I approached the Shack. We watched through the windows, and by sheer luck, Northby was alone. It was a risk to try to get him then, but we figured it was the best chance. Quattro and I approached the window…” Tracey’s hands clenched into fists. “We were so close! We had him! But he glanced out the window as we were opening it and screamed. You guys all ran to him, and we ran back toward Rona. She had been waiting just outside the ward limits. Quattro tripped, but I got to her. She pulled me into her field. I was worried about Quattro, but she said that Soos, Mabel, and Wendy would treat him kindly and that the Shack was a safe place for him.”

 

“It was,” Quattro agreed. “If only you jerks hadn’t pushed a dinosaur skull on me…”

 

Tracey continued. “I was still scared. Preston made it clear that if we failed to secure Northby again, he’d turn us into confetti. I told Rona. She asked me if I had any ideas. So I thought: I could go to Gideon, and tell him that Dipper Classic was the real killer. I told Gideon about what we were. It didn’t really surprise him, all things considered.”

 

“I was expecting parallel universes,” Gideon said. “But you were always planning to lie, weren’t you?”

 

“Of course,” Tracey said. “Rona said if we kept Preston’s name out of it, he’d be satisfied. She was watching the trial yesterday, so she saw that the ring had been found. If I pointed the finger at Northby, I figured Judge McGucket would easily take that as proof that Dipper Classic was innocent, regardless of whether or not Northby rebutted my accusation on the witness stand himself. The trial would end, and Rona could easily capture both of her targets.”

 

“Why was she obsessed with Dipper and Northby?” Athena asked. “There was such emotional attachment in her voice. Has she ever met them?”

 

Quattro sighed. “She really believes they are her sons. It’s a long story, and she didn’t give us all the details. But Rona is short for La Llorona.”

 

“La Llorona?” Soos asked. “The Weeping Woman? My abuelita told me that story. Wasn’t it about some lady who went crazy, and like, drowned her two kids?”

 

“Yes,” Tracey said. “Four hundred years ago, Rona was a human living near present-day Acapulco, Mexico. She married a nobleman entranced by her beauty and she had a pair of twin boys. But then her husband grew tired of her and left her for another woman. She was furious, and so in spite, she dragged her two boys to a fast-moving creek and pushed them in before throwing herself in.”

 

“A mistake she’s regretted ever since,” Quattro said sadly. “Apparently, some entity in charge of reincarnation told her that she can’t go to the next plane of existence until she finds her children. And she’s been traveling the world, looking desperately for her two sons. We know of Dipper Classic’s forehead birthmark. And she told us about Northby’s birthmark.”

 

“You have one, too?” Mabel asked.

 

“Yes,” Northby said. “My namesake, because it looks like the North Star. On my upper left arm.”

 

“The birthmarks were her sign,” Tracey said. “Her two sons had those birthmarks. Not just those exact shapes, but in the same places.”

 

“But that’s just coincidence,” Dipper said. “It’s not like birthmarks are DNA. It’s possible that two people could have the same birthmark…”

 

“I agree,” Tracey said. “It sounded a bit hokey to me, but she believed it and I just couldn’t bring myself to contradict her. She also told us that twins tend to reincarnate as twins, and for a while she assumed that meant they would reincarnate as the same pair of twins. That threw her off. But she eventually figured that twins can reincarnate in two different pairs.”

 

“But my brother and I aren’t twins at all,” Pacifica argued.

 

“Yes, Preston told her about the fifty embryos that were created via in-vitro fertilization at Dr. Chiu’s clinic,” Quattro said. “According to Rona, those children were conceived at the same time, so even though only two embryos were placed in surrogates. So I guess twins are defined as being conceived at the same time.”

 

“Rona approached Preston about them and offered money. But Dipper Classic was back in Piedmont,” Tracey said. “He was about to go with Rona on a ‘business trip’ to abduct him in California, but something happened. Pacifica excitedly told him that Dipper and Mabel were coming back way earlier than expected.”

 

All the color drained from Mabel’s face. “Because I accidentally blew up that radioactive cesium. I put Dipper in harm’s way…” She slammed her fist on the table in front of her. “Why do I keep hurting the ones I love?!”

 

“It isn’t your fault,” Gideon insisted. “Preston was planning to go to California. And he had his own son locked up in the Trembley Home.”

 

“Gideon,” I said. “You told me that there were rumors that Preston locked someone up in the insane asylum. Did you know about Northby? Because you claimed that you didn’t know Pacifica had a brother.”

 

Gideon shrugged. “I didn’t know specifics about Northby. When I gave Pacifica one of my spy cameras, it picked up a conversation Preston had. He was trying to strong-arm someone over the phone. He mentioned that he could easily imprison someone in an insane asylum, so I guessed he locked someone up. I had no idea it was his own son! I mean, that is sick and twisted!”  

 

“It’s ridiculously twisted,” Tracey said. “But just after Dipper and Mabel arrived here in Gravity Falls, Northby successfully escaped from the asylum. Preston was furious, let me tell you.”

 

“How did you come to work for Preston?” Athena asked.

 

“Well, we’ve been living in a tent in the woods,” Quattro said. “But around mid-September, the Chubascos started their mating season. We spent one terrifying night praying that our tent wouldn’t leak. And we knew that we had to find some dry shelter.”

 

“We squatted in the abandoned Dusk-2-Dawn that Dipper broke into with Wendy and her friends,” Tracey added. “We figured Ma and Pa Duskerton would give us a pass. Dipper might have turned thirteen, but we’re static. We’re still twelve. If you want to get technical, we’re chronologically less than a year old. And we were right. They let us stay. I mean, Pa would ask us to do the Lamby Lamby Dance on occasion. But honestly, I feel like we were born without dignity. How’s a stupid dance going to make us any less dignified?”

 

“You came from me,” Dipper said. “It’s a given. I think Mabel got all the dignity.”

 

Mabel took out a cookie from her purse. “Hey, you wanna see me eat this cookie through my nose?!” No one said anything. She shrugged. “Your loss.”

 

“At least you’ve never been strip-searched in public,” I said, remembering Apollo’s wails. His voice is piercing. I think they heard Mr. Chords of Steel in Tibet.

 

“Did that happen to you?” Quattro asked. “That’s kind of an oddly specific thing to say.”

 

“It happened to a friend of ours in Khura’in,” Trucy explained.

 

“Anyway, we’ve been living in the Dusk-2-Dawn, but we needed money,” Quattro said. “We started collecting discarded cans and bottles to recycle. And from there, we branched into digging through trash cans for stuff we could sell to Melby Determined’s pawn shop. We got into the Northwest Hotel’s dumpsters, and it was glorious. We found designer clothes that look like they were worn once or twice. Priscilla just didn’t want them anymore. We didn’t find many things in Pacifica’s size, though.”

 

“Not by choice,” Pacifica pouted. “I have to make my clothes last now! Since we lost most of our money, I haven’t had much of a clothes budget.”  

 

Tracey added. “Preston’s incredibly wasteful too. We once found a pair of cufflinks that were slightly scratched. They had genuine sapphires on them! So we started taking turns sorting through the Northwests’ trash, but unfortunately, someone spotted us. And Preston himself pressed the barrel of a gun to my neck. He didn’t know I was a clone. He thought I was the real thing. He brought me to Rona, and she told him that I was a clone. Quattro tried to rescue me, but Preston set a trap.”

 

“It was a giant mousetrap,” Quattro complained.

 

Wendy rolled her eyes. “And you were complaining about our dinosaur skull paperweight?”

 

“Rona told him about our weakness to liquids, and then whenever he wanted us to do something for him, he’d threaten to douse us with water,” Quattro added. “And sometimes he’d come up with other threats, like cutting pieces off us with sharp scissors, or running us feet-first through a paper shredder.”

 

“He also had Rona use some sort of magic on Pacifica’s cell phone,” Tracey said. “He had a list of approved numbers that would go through without any problem. Any number that wasn’t on that list would get patched through to his phone. After Northby escaped, he managed to call her cell phone. I know now he used the emergency phone in the park. Preston answered the call and arranged that meeting with Northby near Filltwerp Fountain in Trembley Park. And you know the rest. Northby knocked us out. When we came to, Toby was dead. Preston ordered us to manufacture the fake evidence so Dipper would take the fall for the murder. After all, we know from our own memories that Dipper’s an escape artist to rival Houdini. The detention center would take extra precautions if Dipper were accused of capital murder. Once Dipper was found guilty, one of us would simply switch places with him. But of course, Mr. Wright managed to see through the inconsistencies. He really is that good.”

 

“Wow…” Soos said.

 

“Why?” Dipper asked.

 

“Why what?” Tracey asked, sounding irritated.

 

“I get that you were being threatened,” Dipper said. “But you allied with a demon! And that crazy lady! I…guess I just never realized how much you guys hated me. But why?”

 

“Why?!” Tracey snapped. “Do you remember the night of the party?”

 

“I’ll never forget it,” Dipper said.

 

“Do you remember what you said as our clone brethren melted under the sprinklers?” Tracey’s voice had an edge.

 

“No…” Dipper said.

 

“Huh,” Tracey said. “That one word, in that casual and tossed off tone. It’s forever seared into my mind! How could you even have the nerve to ask me why I hate your guts?!”

 

“OK, you’re mad at Dipper,” Mabel said. “But you never met Northby until the night Toby died, right?”

 

Tracey snorted. “As if I need a reason to hate a Northwest. And behind that sweet façade, Northby Northwest is a terrible person. I said it was his fault that Toby is dead, and I meant it.” He looked directly at Northby. “If you had begged Rona to save Toby, she would have! She thinks you’re the precious son she’s been looking for all this time! You may not have cracked open Toby’s skull with that rock, but his blood is on your hands all the same!”

 

Pacifica gritted her teeth. “Just shut up! You don’t know anything about my brother!”

 

“Oh, and you do?” Tracey laughed. “Like you knew where he’s spent the last three years of his life? Can you really make value judgments, Pacifica? You’ve spent your whole life obeying your father’s every command, believing every lie he’s told you.”

 

“I can’t deny that,” Pacifica said. “But my brother has spent his whole life trying to free me from my own cowardice.”

 

“Just stop this,” Quattro said. “Please, Tracey. I hate it when you get this like this…”

 

“Tracey,” Dipper said.

 

Tracey didn’t respond.

 

“Look at me!” Dipper insisted. “I’m sorry about what happened! I’m sorry I didn’t explain myself when I found you in my closet, but you ran off. You’ve been through a horrific ordeal. You’re scared and hurt and angry. It doesn’t surprise me that you think rich kids are spoiled. You also don’t realize how brave and strong Pacifica really is, because I didn’t know when I created you.”

 

Tracey gave him a blank look. “You do realize what you just said is on a court transcript, right?”

 

Dipper blushed. “Mr. Wright, can you move to have my last remark stricken from the record?”

 

“No,” I said. “I’m not getting pecked at by the woodpecker stenographer.”

 

Sheriff Blubs re-entered the courtroom.

 

“Fine,” Dipper said. “I don’t hate you now. I still think we can be friends.”

 

“It’s too late for that,” Tracey said. “I’m willing to pay for the things I’ve done. I just have one favor to ask. I forced Quattro into everything. So arrest me, but let Quattro go.”

 

“Objection!” Quattro cried. Everyone turned to look at him. He looked rather perturbed. “Wow, it really isn’t as cool as when Mr. Wright does it. Tracey, you can’t suffer the consequences alone for my sake. I know the months have made you hard and mean, and I know I’m not the best brother. But I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” Rivulets of toner were running down Quattro’s cheeks. “I don’t know if I’d even be alive if I didn’t have you. I won’t throw you under the bus just to save myself.”

 

“One of us would have been executed in Dipper Classic’s place if the plan had worked,” Tracey said. “And it was always going to be me.”

 

“But it didn’t work,” Quattro said. “And honestly, I’m glad it failed. I didn’t want you to die…”

 

“Were you really willing to die?” Dipper asked.

 

“Of course,” Tracey replied. “Because if you were convicted of murder, your name would be forever remembered with shame. And the real you would have been Rona’s possibly eternal prisoner. Dying would have been a small sacrifice if I could take you down with me!”

 

“Sheriff Blubs, arrest me too,” Quattro said. “And if you don’t, I’ll just do something bad right now to get you to arrest me.”

 

“Well, we can’t have that,” Blubs said. “Tracey and Quattro Pines, you are under arrest for two counts of attempted kidnapping in the first degree, obstruction of justice, and accomplice after the fact in the murder of Toby Determined. Anything you say can and will be used against you…”

 

“Can’t you have mercy on them?!” Dipper asked. “They were forced into doing those things! Preston threatened them!”

 

I half-expected Tracey to lash out at Dipper. Something like, “Don’t embarrass me with your pity.” But Tracey said nothing.

 

“If they testify against Preston,” Blubs said. “The DA might be able to give them immunity.”

 

“I don’t think Tad Strange would be sympathetic to them,” I said.

 

“Oh?” Blubs looked at me quizzically. “Why not? He’s a reasonable guy.”

 

What could I say? The recording of Tad was obtained through illegal means. And we still don’t know why he’s aligned with Judge Libra, who has a beef with the Pines family. “Not when it comes to the Pines twins.” Ugh. What a mess. I got hung up on saving Dipper and to a lesser extent Northby. But I can’t save Tracey and Quattro…

 

Athena seemed to share my thoughts. Widget was purple around her neck. “I’m sorry.”

 

“We got this far,” Quattro said. “Wasn’t that enough?”

 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Pacifica said, walking up to Tracey and giving him a backhanded bitch slap. “That was for making my brother cry.” The diamond on her ring had cut Tracey’s cheek. Black ink oozed from the cut.

 

Blubs and Durland led Tracey and Quattro away, though they looked sad as they did so.

 

For a few minutes, no one spoke. Then Wendy broke the silence.

 

“So we’re in agreement Rona was a vengeful ghost?” Wendy asked. No one objected. “You know what this means? I win the pot!”

 

“Boo,” Grenda complained.

 

“What?” Wendy said. “Athena cleaned me out at poker last night.”

 

The sound of a gavel slamming echoed through the courtroom. “I am ready to make my verdict,” McGucket announced. “I’m happy to declare Mason ‘Dipper’ Pines Not Guilty.”

 

FOOM! A confetti cannon went off in the audience, filling the entire courtroom with colorful confetti.

 

“I think we, like, overdid it, dudes?” Soos asked.

 

“No, I like this,” Dipper said.  

 

To Be Continued


	8. Ending and Epilogue

“It’s finally over…” Dipper said to no one in particular.

 

Mabel jumped me and hugged. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

 

As if encouraged by his sister, Dipper ran forward and we merged into a group hug.

 

Northby approached Pacifica.

 

Dipper and Mabel looked on expectantly, along with Trucy and Athena.

 

Pacifica slapped Northby.

 

Northby rubbed his welted cheek. “What was that for?!”

 

“Don’t ever threaten to kill yourself again!” Pacifica snapped. “Even if it’s a bluff! What made you even think of that plan?”

 

“I didn’t,” Northby answered. “It was all Trucy’s idea.”

 

“I thought of letting Dipper try it,” Trucy added. “But since Northby has suicidality, I thought she’d be more likely to buy it…”

 

“You brought Mr. Hat, your two swords,” I said. “Please tell me you didn’t bring your magic panties.”

 

“Well, how else could I bring the swords with me?” Trucy asked. “Shall I show off my panties?”

 

“Please don’t…” Athena said.

 

“Consider yourself on my list, Miss Wright,” Pacifica said sharply. She threw her arms around Northby as tears streamed down her face. “I can’t lose you again…”

 

“It’s okay, Pacifica,” Northby answered. “It’s over. It’s finally over. Our thirteen year nightmare. We’re finally free.”

 

Pacifica shook her head. “I don’t think the nightmares will ever go away.”

 

Northby looked at me. “We owe it to Mr. Wright.” He turned to me. “You’ve saved us from our father’s tyranny. I’m not sure if I can ever repay you.”

 

“We could pay his fee, but it would max out one of my credit cards,” Pacifica said sourly. “I only have three now. And Lazy Susan doesn’t pay me that much, so I don’t think I could pay off the bill.”

 

“You’re working? Minimum wage?” Northby asked. “When did that happen?”

 

“I’m not proud of it, okay,” Pacifica pouted.

 

Mabel grabbed Northby’s right arm. “Oh, and we’re dating.”

 

“We are?” Northby repeated. “Mabel, I’m flattered, but…”

 

“You are not dating my brother!” Pacifica seized Northby’s left arm. The poor kid whimpered at being an unwilling tug of war rope and I had to avert my eyes.   

 

“You’re coming to our victory party at the Mystery Shack, right, dudes?” Soos asked me.

 

“We can’t,” I said. “We still need to go to our conference. If we leave now, we might be able to make it to Olympia before our presentation if we don’t hit any speed traps.”

 

“Maybe I can help,” came a voice.

 

I turned to face Pacifica’s mother. Priscilla, as Preston called her. “Um, Mrs. Northwest?”

 

“We still have our private jet,” Priscilla began. “I’ll drop you off in Olympia on my way to New York.”

 

“It’s kind of out of your way,” Trucy protested.

 

“The jet needs to be refueled,” Priscilla explained.

 

“That’s awfully nice of you, Mom,” Pacifica said. “What’s in it for you?”

 

“I like paying my debts,” Priscilla responded. “I know your father’s lawyers are going to find some technicality to get him freed, but Mr. Wright and his associates did get Preston out of my hair, so I intend to enjoy this while it lasts.” She began walking toward the courtroom doors, then paused. “Well?”

 

“We don’t even get to say goodbye?” Trucy asked sadly.

 

“Or go to the acquittal party?” Athena asked, Widget going purple.

 

“We already got the banners made and everything,” said Robbie. He held one up. It read _PHOENIX DIDN’T BLOW IT!!!_ in silver text on a blue background.

 

“What about the rental car?” I asked.

 

“Give me the keys,” Soos said. “I’ll drive it to the rental place. Least I can do.”

 

I tossed the keys to Soos.

 

“Thank you, everyone,” I said. “I couldn’t have done it without your help: Wendy, Soos, Mabel…even Gideon.”

 

Gideon snorted and rolled his eyes, back at the prosecutor’s bench. Roquefort had taken out a bowl of ice cream and was feeding it to him.

 

Gideon suddenly spat out a mouthful of ice cream. “Darn it! I said dig the nuts out!”

 

“My sincerest apologies…” Roquefort said dully. “You know, you could try to fight the stereotype that led to you taking on a more…porcine persona…”

 

“I lost the case, I’m entitled to at least a half-gallon of comfort food,” Gideon retorted.

 

Well, at least he isn’t whipping me until I pass out. Franziska should take notes.

 

I took one last look at the smiling faces and the waves goodbye before I followed Priscilla out of the courtroom, Athena and Trucy following me. Dipper is safe, with the people who care for him. My work here is done.

 

The limousine ride to the launchpad was passed in stony silence.

 

The private jet was like a flying luxury hotel, with plush armchairs. Priscilla sat on an antique fainting couch, sipping her wine. She offered me some, but I declined. Trucy and Athena accepted some Pitt cola and sipped it.

 

“You should really apologize to your son, Mrs. Northwest,” Trucy said.

 

“I never wanted to send him away,” Priscilla retorted. “Preston sent him to the rubber room when I was out shopping.”

 

“You could have withdrawn him at any time,” Athena argued. “You’re just dodging the blame.”

 

“You think I could order Preston to do anything?” Priscilla said. “I’m just a passenger on his runaway train.”

 

“I don’t see a gun to your head. Only a big wad of money in front of your nose,” Athena said.

 

“I took Northby to see Xavier Lesenfants,” Priscilla said. “I thought if anyone could save my children, it was him. But like every other man in my life, he failed me. And how do think I felt when Northby told me that it was his fault that Lesenfants killed himself? I couldn’t cry. I had to wait until he went to bed, crying himself to sleep before I could hit the Valium. Harder than usual, if you must know.”

 

“And your daughter?” I asked. “I’m guessing she has an unhealthy obsession with her weight, and I don’t think that was her father’s doing.”  

 

“We live in a screwed-up world,” Priscilla explained. “All people want out women to do is look pretty. Look at magazines. Even the most beautiful female celebrities and models need Photoshop to sell clothes and makeup.”  

 

“Isn’t it just men who want women to look pretty?” Trucy asked.

 

Priscilla pinched Trucy’s cheeks. “So cute! So naïve! Who’s the only goddess with a planet named after her? Venus. And what do the myths all emphasize? Her beauty.”

 

“But that’s just mythology,” Athena said. “It’s not supposed to be realistic.”

 

“Ever hear of a woman named Elena Kagan?” Priscilla asked. “She didn’t just graduate from law school; she became the dean of Harvard Law. And when she became a Supreme Court Justice, all people could talk about was how fat and ugly she was. And she wasn’t even that fat or ugly. Marie Curie only got her professorship at University of Paris because her husband, their first choice for it, died. And then she was denied admission to the French Academy of Sciences even though she discovered a new element. So yes, I did rip some pages out of a few storybooks to instill the fact to Pacifica that all the gold medals, high test scores, academic degrees, or awards would not matter if she looked plain. Or worse, ugly or deformed.”

 

“And she didn’t seem very pleased with that advice,” I said. “Do you remember what she said to you during the trial? The…”

 

“Only way I wasn’t going to die alone?” She finished. “She’s right. I wasn’t always this gorgeous. My whole adulthood, I was plain. My family had prestige, but my stupid father gambled away everything. I won a free ride scholarship and got my Bachelor’s, and then a miracle happened. My father won the lottery. And he knew I wasn’t going to get marriage proposals with my looks or my smarts, so he paid for plastic surgery. I went on a liquid diet and dropped forty pounds. Then my father hosted a regatta, and whomever won the yacht race would also win my hand. Forty of the richest bachelors entered. The same eligible men who wouldn’t look twice at me before when I was ugly, but now that I looked good in a fancy sports car, well, they were tripping over themselves. They fought dirty too, discreetly slipping each other sedatives and sabotaging each other’s boats…”

 

Widget was purple around Athena’s neck. “Mrs. Northwest, I’m so sorry…”  

 

“Don’t be,” Priscilla said. “I’m better off this way, aren’t I?” She took out a pill bottle from her fancy purse and shook out two pills.

 

“Your heart tells me you aren’t,” Athena said. “I’m sorry. I prejudged you without knowing your pain.”

 

“And don’t you think popping pills is an unhealthy way to deal with your emotional distress?” Trucy asked.

 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Priscilla answered tersely.

 

“OK,” Trucy said. “What kind of example are you setting for your children?”

 

“I never let my children touch anything stronger than baby aspirin,” Priscilla replied. “I’ve taught them not to repeat my mistakes.”

 

“But they still see you taking pills,” Athena said. “Children do imitate their parents.”

 

“Perhaps stupid children would,” Priscilla retorted. “My kids are smarter than that. We paid good money for them to be!”

 

“Preston mentioned they were Dr. Chiu’s work,” Trucy said. “Can you tell us more about that?”

 

Priscilla shrugged. “What else is there to say? Dr. Chiu made fifty embryos, twenty five male and twenty five female. He gave us detailed genetic profiles of each embryo, and Preston and I went over those damn profiles for hours trying to pick which one was the most likely to be successful. And Number Forty-Six was the first to be eliminated in that stupid prenatal grudge match. Trisomy 21.”  

 

Because of course that bastard is into eugenics. “I’m just going to say it,” I began. “You’re both awful parents.”

 

“We are,” Priscilla said. “But you have to admit, my children turned out fine. As long as Preston fails to turn Northby into a carbon copy of himself. As you can see, one Preston Northwest is more than enough. And I’m sure Pacifica will be a fine lady someday as long as she doesn’t grow too arrogant.”

 

“Mrs. Northwest,” Trucy said. “Do you mind if I ask you one last question?”

 

“What?” She asked.

 

“What was your degree in?” Trucy asked.

 

Priscilla smiled, just a little sadly. “Art history.”

 

XXX

 

The yard around the Mystery Shack was filled with balloons, the blue banners, and streamers. Several of the towns residence had turned out for the acquittal party. Dipper, the guest of honor, sat on the porch of the Shack, content to relax as everyone else played party games or chatted.

 

“Gideon?” Dipper asked as Gideon approached him, carrying a bouquet of brightly colored flowers. “I don’t think this is the time to ask Mabel out for the millionth time, as if her answer is going to be any different.”

 

Gideon shoved the flowers toward him. “They’re for you, Dipper.”

 

“But I don’t swing that way,” Dipper replied.

 

“They’re from Judge Libra,” Gideon said. “D.A. Strange asked me to bring them here. Why he didn’t send Roquefort to do such a menial task, I don’t know. Maybe he wanted to punish me for losing the case.”

 

Dipper removed the card attached to the flowers. In sweeping golden-inked calligraphy was a poem:

_Whose tomorrow was made_

_In a cold-blooded trade?_

_Mason, I give you a toast_

_Hail, Pines. Hail, Northwests._

_Who stinketh the most?_

Dipper screamed as large black spiders swarmed out of the bouquet.

“Something wrong?” Gideon asked.

 

“What? Don’t you see them…?” Dipper asked, glancing down. The spiders were nowhere to be seen. The flowers were on the ground, looking perfectly benign. 

 

Gideon looked blankly at him. “Them?”  

 

“Nothing,” Dipper replied, tucking the card into his pants pocket and throwing the flowers into the nearest trash can. “You seem to be in a better mood than I thought, considering you lost the case.”

 

“Well,” Gideon sniffed. “I think I did like it a lot better when I was the one who fooled everyone. How could I have been so convinced by that fake evidence? But it was for the best.”

 

“Because Toby’s real killer was found?” Dipper asked.

 

“No, because I’d rather miss our thing,” Gideon said. “It’s like if Batman died. Would the Joker be happy?”

 

“Am I Batman or the Joker in this metaphor of yours?” Dipper asked. He received a glare in response. “Actually, that’s not too bad. I’m typecast as a goody-goody. I could be a bad boy.”

 

Gideon laughed.

 

It was Dipper’s turn to glare.

 

Gideon stopped laughing. “Ohhh, you were serious?”

 

Pacifica approached them. “Dipper, do you mind if we talk? Alone?”

 

“Sure, Pacifica,” Dipper said. “Gideon, I trust you won’t bother Mabel while I’m out?”

 

“I won’t,” Gideon retorted with a pout. “I don’t want to watch her flirting with that loony bin reject.”

 

“Can we go somewhere where no one will hear us?” Pacifica asked. “Like that basement of your uncle’s. It is soundproof, right?”

 

“Sure,” Dipper said, leading Pacifica through the gift shop and punching in the passcode. “What exactly did you want to talk about?”

 

“Not until we’re alone,” Pacifica replied.

 

They reached the bottom floor of the basement. A thin layer of dust had settled over every surface.

 

“Are you sure no one can hear us?” Pacifica asked. “There aren’t any pesky vents, right? Or weak spots in the foundation?”

 

Dipper sighed in exasperation, both with Pacifica’s evasiveness and his remembrance of one of those weak spots. “Pacifica, what do you want to tell me that you don’t want anyone else to hear?”

 

“You’re not going to like it,” Pacifica said. “I feel like I’m standing in front of a door, and every instinct is telling me not to open it.”

 

“If you’re going to apologize about your father killing Toby, it wasn’t your fault,” Dipper said.

 

Pacifica shook her head. “What about how my father sent my brother to an insane asylum? One that kicked out Old Man McGucket?”

 

“But you didn’t know,” Dipper said.

 

“My father told me Northby went to a strict boarding school,” Pacifica said sadly. “And I’d ask him for details, but he’d take out the bell and I would change the subject. Eventually, I stopped bringing it up altogether, even when my dad removed all the portraits of Northby from the walls.”

 

“But how was it your fault that he sent your brother away?” Dipper asked.

 

“Because I said nothing,” Pacifica said. “As you said, I’m just another link in the world’s worst chain. I was content to pretend my brother was happier in ‘boarding school’ because he wasn’t fighting with my dad anymore. Enjoying the new status quo just because there were no longer screaming matches. Knowing my dad’s lie was flimsy at best.”

 

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Dipper responded. “Remember what you said to me when I was trying to get to that framed silver mirror? ’You wouldn’t understand.’ I’m in no position to criticize you, but why couldn’t you tell me that your brother was sent away for disobedience? I feel like a jerk for not being more understanding then.”

 

“How could I have told you?” Pacifica said. “Though, whose clothes do you think you were wearing?”

 

“That was his tux?” Dipper said. “No wonder it was so tight.”

 

“And now you know. If Mabel’s in danger, you come running, and I threw my brother under the bus. Northby probably hates me.”

 

“I’ve only met your brother once,” Dipper said. “But I can tell he loves you and doesn’t resent you.”

 

“He should,” Pacifica replied. “I know you’re going to hate me after hearing this, but I would rather be honest than keep deceiving you. But before Northby was committed, I heard these ominous sounds and Northby screaming. And you know what I did? I took my pillow and covered my ears with it.”

 

“How old were you when this happened?” Dipper asked.

 

“We were both eight,” Pacifica answered.

 

“What could you have done back then?” Dipper asked. “Do you know what he was in trouble for?”

 

“He volunteered at a soup kitchen,” Pacifica said. “My mother was too strung out on pills to notice, but the servants saw and heard everything. And those jerks never said anything either.”

 

“All of them worked for your father,” Dipper reasoned. “That explains why none of them reported anything.”

 

“Sometimes they were even in on the punishments,” Pacifica snapped. “The laundry maid and the gardener would whip him with a studded belt while my father watched and sipped wine. Though I did manage to do something about that. I splattered bleach on one of my designer blouses and blamed it on the laundress. She got fired immediately.”

 

“See, that was good,” Dipper said. “You’re selling yourself short.”

 

“It was one little thing,” Pacifica answered. “It pales in comparison to your deeds. You’re strong and brave and kind. And for all the times I’ve criticized Stan…! He saved the world by willingly destroying his own ego. Sure, he remembered everything eventually, but I could never do the same. I’m so selfish that I would never give up my whole being. I hate being this way…”

 

“Pacifica, you’re not selfish,” Dipper said. “A truly selfish person would not be taking it as hard as you are right now. It hurts me to see you so self-loathing.” He put his arms around her, ignoring her gasp. “I can’t say I understand the pain and suffering you went through. I never will truly understand it, because my parents were nice and supportive. But I haven’t been able to tell my parents about everything that happened this summer. ‘Oh, we averted an apocalypse. I was possessed by a demon. My sister got kidnapped by gnomes and stalked by a fake child psychic.’ I was so happy that our parents decided to send us back here, even if Mabel has a permanent record now. I didn’t want to wait a whole year to see you again…”

 

“You hated me before,” Pacifica replied. “You slammed a door in my face.”

 

“And I was wrong to do that,” Dipper said. “And believe it or not, you’re not the first person I’ve misjudged, and you probably won’t be the last. I’m not asking you to stop being sad. But if you need to talk, I’ll listen.”

 

Tears spilled down Pacifica’s cheeks as she returned the hug. “Dipper, I’m sorry that you were put on trial. But I’m glad because I got my brother back and that you…” She blushed. “Never mind.”

 

“So you kind of have a twin too,” Dipper said. “Did you do awkward siblings hugs?”

 

“We hugged perfectly,” Pacifica said haughtily. “We Northwests do most things better than everyone else. We also would sing a song to each other when we were feeling sad. We never considered ourselves twins, though. I wouldn’t have shared a womb with Northby. That’s where I draw the line.”  

 

“I shared a womb and I was fine,” Dipper said.

 

Pacifica arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t you almost strangle yourself on your umbilical cord?”

 

All the color drained from Dipper’s face. “How do you know that? You weren’t there.” A feeling of dread built up in the pit of his stomach. “Oh no, don’t tell me…”

 

Pacifica took out her cell phone. “Your mom posted her live birth video! Also, Mabel punched the doctor right on camera! And the video has a thousand likes.”

 

“I don’t care if I was just acquitted of murder,” Dipper said, clenching his fists. “I am going to kill my mother.”

 

XXX

 

Just within the DA’s office, Roquefort opened the outer door. He failed to notice the bucket rigged above the door, which spilled onto him.

 

Sploosh!

 

Peals of laughter.

 

“Got him!” cried Nate as he and the rest of Wendy’s crew popped out from their hiding places around the office.

 

Steam rose from where the water touched Roquefort’s flesh.

 

“Uh, why is it smoking?” cried Lee.

 

“You did bring the water, Robbie?” Wendy asked.

 

“Yeah,” Robbie retorted. “I filled the bucket with some holy water my parents have been using to dispel the zombies popping up. I figured since he’s holier than thou…”

 

“Um, were his eyeteeth always this sharp?” Thompson asked nervously after the smoke cleared.

 

Roquefort’s face was burned in several places, his lips peeled back to reveal sharp teeth. His skin had also taken on a grayish tinge, small but pointy red horns sprouted from each temple, and his nails had grown longer and were now pitch black. Not to mention sharp.

 

“OK, of all our classmates to secretly be a demon, you were in the bottom half,” Tambry said. Her cell phone went flying out of her hands and smashed on the ground. “Hey!”

 

“Wait,” Wendy said. “At the trial…it was you. You moved the rock and made it look like Dipper lifted it! Guys, run! I can handle this.”  

 

Tambry tried to pick up the pieces of her cell phone, but Robbie grabbed her arm and ushered her out of the office behind Thompson, Lee, and Nate.

 

“I did,” Roquefort replied.

 

“Why?” Wendy demanded.

 

“I had to help that little rat Gideon,” Roquefort answered. “I don’t like him, but we were on the same team. And there’s no law that says I can’t use telekinesis in the courtroom. I checked.”

 

Wendy swung her axe, but Roquefort casually shot out his arm and caught it.

 

“So you’re a demon,” Wendy said. “So what? I’m friends with the elder Pines. They took out Bill Cipher. Are you acting on Bill’s behalf? Is that why you tried to get Dipper executed?”

 

“No!” Roquefort answered. “Why would I work for that triangular prick? Not all demons are friendly with each other. I was petrified on that throne too…”

 

“Then why?” Wendy asked.

 

“Because the DA told Gideon and myself to ensure a conviction. Pull every trick in the book and even invent some new ones.” 

 

“Tad Strange did?” Wendy asked. “What do you know about Judge Libra?”

 

“She’s Strange’s master, and he’s the only one who ever sees her,” Roquefort said. “And she’s the one who wanted Dipper Pines to die. I don’t know all the details. She’s a balance demon. They’re normally peaceful, but she and Strange are trying to reverse the…well, status quo around here. And she heard this prophecy that she’s destined to die at the feet of the Pines family. But even she’s not powerful enough to wipe out the entire Pines lineage in the multiverse, so she’s had to pick her battles accordingly.”

 

“And why are you spying on her?” Wendy asked.

 

“How do you know that?” Roquefort didn’t sound surprised, but he frowned. 

 

“I have my ways. So answer the question: why are you spying on her?”

 

“Because I’m against what she wants to do. She wants to make Gravity Falls orderly and thus anathema to demons. But you and I grew up in this town. Weirdness is in its nature. If it became normal, it wouldn’t be Gravity Falls anymore. So what are you going to do?”  

 

“What else?” Wendy asked. “I chop off your head. Any last words?”

 

“Please!” Roquefort insisted. “I’m only a little one. I can do no harm.”

 

“Really, cause Dipper might have a different opinion, especially when I tell him you moved the rock.” Wendy raised her axe.  

 

“I’m not even a full demon. My father’s one hundred percent human. I had to maintain my cover. You know I’m not on Libra’s side…”

 

“At least you didn’t pull the whole ‘I was just following orders’ defense,” Wendy said. “But I can’t let you run loose.”

 

“Then make a deal with me,” Roquefort said. “I’m not a powerful demon. I can’t disregard the terms of a contract. I’ll promise not to hurt you, your family, or your friends if you and your friends don’t tell anyone about what I am.”

 

“Fine,” Wendy said. “But I’ll be watching. You pull anything wacky, I’ll call Stan. He punched Bill Cipher out of existence. A ‘little one’ like you should be easy.”  

 

“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Corduroy, but your offer’s fair enough,” Roquefort said, pulling out his hand.

 

Wendy hesitantly shook it. She then backed away slowly, put away her axe, and left the office.

 

Roquefort’s face was still burned. He retreated back to the tiny office Tad let him share with Gideon. He crawled into the desk legspace, then took out a cell phone and dialed. “Hi, Dad. I’ve been found out. They promised not to tell, but…” He sniffled. “You should have seen the way they looked at me. Holy water in a bucket...yeah, that scene in _Good Omens_ seems a lot less funny now…”  

 

XXX

At the Mystery Shack, Soos was finishing up the clean-up of the acquittal party.

 

A cab pulled up, and his girlfriend Melody stepped out with her suitcase. “I’m back.”

 

Soos rushed to her and took her bag. “How was Dallas?”

 

“Boring,” Melody said. “I wish you had been there with me.”

 

“I would have loved to go, but I couldn’t leave Dipper and Mabel alone, and their parents said they weren’t allowed out of state,” Soos said apologetically.

 

“So, anything happen while I was gone?” Melody asked.

 

“Yeah,” Soos said. “Dipper got accused of murder and the legendary Phoenix Wright defended him! Oh, and Preston Northwest killed Toby and made a deal with La Llorona, Tad Strange is a bad guy, Mabel harbored a fugitive and wants him to be her boyfriend, and McGucket is now a judge.”

 

Melody stared blankly at him for a minute. Then she smiled. “I’ve missed this place. I’ve missed you.” She threw her arms around Soos, making him drop the suitcase.

 

“I’ve missed you, too, Melody,” Soos turned around. “Um, Abuelita? This is kind of a…special moment? It’s kind of awkward, having you, like, watching us…”

 

Soos’ grandmother was practically hanging out of the Mystery Shack window with her binoculars. “Fine. Just let me know when you two are married.” With that she retreated into the Shack and shut the window.

 

“You do realize she’s got cameras everywhere,” Melody said.

 

“She bought thirteen, but I’ve only disabled seven so far…” Soos responded.

 

“Honestly, I don’t care if this is being recorded,” Melody answered, moving in for a kiss.

 

XXX

Meanwhile, Mabel was at the local craft store buying glitter.

 

“Mabel!” came a familiar voice.

 

“Former President Trembley!” Mabel cried in delight, almost dropping her bulging shopping bags.

 

Trembley gestured to the man standing next to him. “Mabel, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. My vice president, Myron Filltwerp!” Filltwerp was medium weight, balding, with a well trimmed black beard. He was wearing an old fashioned suit complete with trousers, unlike Trembley, who was only wearing heart patterned pantaloons and mismatched socks below the waist.

 

“So you’re the young lady who freed Quentin from his peanut brittle prison?” Myron asked.

 

“I did,” Mabel said brightly. “So you put yourself in peanut brittle too, Mr. Filltwerp?”

 

“I was…in a bad place,” Filltwerp answered. “My wife left me, and I didn’t see a way out, so I…fell into the vat. But if you hadn’t unfrozen Quentin here, he’d have never tracked me down and freed me.” His next sentence dripped with sarcasm. “Thanks a lot.”

 

“You’re welcome!” Mabel said.

 

“You know, Mabel,” Trembley said. “I think I’ll run for president again! The Trembley and Filltwerp train is pulling into the station. And if I win, I’ll make you my Secretary of State! How’s that?”

 

“Can we declare war on Moldova?” Mabel asked. “Ooh, I hate those weenies!”

 

“I don’t see why not,” Trembley said.

 

“How can you think of running for president again?” Filltwerp asked. “The world has changed a lot. Like, it’s a lot warmer than it used to be. Have you noticed?” He took out a paper fan and fanned himself.

 

“We could always harvest some Plutonian ice and drop it in the ocean,” Trembley said.

 

“Pluto wasn’t even discovered when you were…” Filltwerp sputtered.

 

“And apparently, they still can’t decide if it’s a planet or not,” Mabel added. “They go back and forth. I think they should ask the Plutonians…”

 

“That could be part of our platform!” Trembley said. “A friendship with Pluto!”

 

“Everyone we knew and loved is dead…!” Filltwerp wailed.

 

“I’ll totally be your campaign manager,” Mabel said. “My brother and I helped get Grunkle Stan elected to the mayorship. Except he got disqualified for his extensive criminal record. Oh, and being legally dead. He should really get that straightened out…”

 

Filltwerp sobbed. 

 

XXX

 

Quattro and Tracey stood side by side in the tiny broom closet at the police station. The closet was too cramped for them to sit or squat.

 

“Do you think it’s ironic?” Quattro asked.

 

“What?” Tracey asked.

 

“That we planned to lock Dipper Classic in the closet, but that backfired and now we’re trapped in here.” Quattro tried the knob. “You’d think Durland would be too stupid to think of the chair under the knob trick.”

 

“I regret leading you to this end,” Tracey said flatly.

 

Quattro shook his head. “I don’t. I don’t care, as long as we can stay together.”

 

Tracey sounded depressed and defeated. “I guess we’ll go to our deaths together. Think there’s an afterlife for…beings like us? Think we’ll see our brothers again?”

 

“Why the sudden morbid conversation?” Quattro asked. “It’s kind of a bummer we’re locked in here, but we can escape. We’ve gotten this far together. They’ll keep us safe from Preston. They need our testimony to keep him in jail, and the townspeople all hate him…”

 

“But this is an election year, and Sheriff Blubs relies on Preston’s contributions,” Tracey replied. “Why else was the good Sheriff at his beck and call? Why else did he scour the city looking for Northby? Like it or not, the Northwest’s industries are the calcified artery that feeds this disgusting place…”

 

“Then we’ll leave,” Quattro said. “We’ll find…dryer pastures. Maybe we can hitch a ride on a plane for Chile. The Atacama Desert is perfectly dry. Sure, the water’s laced with arsenic, but we don’t have to drink water, so we should be fine…”

 

The door opened, revealing Rona Round.

 

“Rona?” Quattro asked. “What are you doing here?”

 

“We don’t have much time,” Rona said. “I can take you to your hideout.”

 

“Except the town knows where we’ve been crashing,” Quattro asked. “I mean, Ma and Pa could discourage people looking for us, but there’s only so much they can do. They’re dead…”

 

“So am I, mijo,” Rona said. “Yet here we are.”

 

“Well, we’re not even technically alive,” Tracey said. “But what’s your angle? We don’t count as Dipper Classic, so why are you here?”

 

“I felt sorry for you,” Rona said. “You were both innocents, drawn into this sordid affair by your resemblance to your original and Preston’s greed.” She held out her hand. “Come with me.”

 

“I guess we didn’t really have anywhere else to be,” Quattro said.

 

“All right,” Tracey said. “We’ll go with you. If only because this closet is disgusting. I just know Blubs and Durland have been making out in here…”

 

Tracey and Quattro stepped out of the closets, blinking in the harsh fluorescent lights. They moved toward Rona, who embraced them tightly. They vanished in a burst of light.

 

Rona, Tracey, and Quattro reappeared in the storeroom at the deserted Dusk 2 Dawn.

 

Rona sank to her knees.

 

“Are you okay?” Quattro asked.

 

“I’m just…tired,” Rona said. “My power isn’t limitless.”

 

“You rescued us,” Quattro said. “You could have some of the drinks, since we can’t…imbibe. But most of it’s expired, so the soda’s probably flat. I’d stick with the bottled water.”

 

“You’re sweet,” Rona said sadly. “Just like my boys. I have an offer for you.”

 

“I’m listening…” Tracey said, trying not to sound too intrigued.

 

“If you allow me to take shelter while I regain my strength, I could use some of my power to make you both flesh and blood,” Rona said. “It won’t be exactly like becoming Dipper Pines. You still won’t age. But you won’t dissolve upon touching liquids.”  

 

“What’s the catch?” Quattro asked.

 

“You simply let me stay here and regain my spent energy,” Rona said. “I don’t expect you to answer this second.”

 

Tracey extended his hand. “You can sleep in our bed.” He gestured to a full bed that was pushed against a wall.

 

“How generous,” Rona said. “But where will you sleep?”

 

“We’re paper,” Tracey explained. “We don’t need to sleep as much.”

 

“And we don’t have to eat as much,” Quattro said. “Which is good because most food has too much water content. I miss fruit that isn’t dried.”

 

“What do you boys intend to do now?” Rona asked, seating herself on the edge of the bed.

 

“Well, we can’t exactly go out in public anymore,” Tracey said. “I figured we lay low. Pop some popcorn and watch our _Stunted Growth_ DVDs.”

 

“I thought we finished all the episodes already,” Quattro said.

 

“We still need to hear the audio commentary,” Tracey replied brightly.

 

“Do you want some tape for…?” Quattro asked, touching his own cheek. “Where Pacifica cut you?”

 

“No,” Tracey said. “It’s one thing that distinguishes me from Dipper Classic. Besides, don’t you think Wendy would think it looks cool?!”

 

XXX

 

Inside the Northwest penthouse, Pacifica and Northby were together near an easel Northby had set up. Pacifica was still wearing her usual outfit. Northby had changed into comfortable clothes for painting; an oversized T-shirt and some sweatpants.

 

Northby gestured to his canvas. “There you go. One portrait of Dipper, as you requested.”

 

Pacifica looked at the portrait. “It doesn’t look like him.”

 

“I thought it was a good likeness…” Northby said.

 

Note: it actually was. An exact likeness.

 

Pacifica frowned. “Make it better!”

 

Northby picked up a paintbrush and quickly made some adjustments. Dipper was a little taller, with more muscle mass. His hair was also less messy under the trapper’s hat.

 

“Better,” Pacifica said. “But still not perfect.”

 

Northby kept painting. “Now?”

 

“Still, just a little more heroic looking?” Pacifica asked.

 

Northby touched up the painting. Dipper now resembled a bodybuilder, with considerable muscles. Each curl of his brown hair looked like it had been individually placed. He now lacked his orange shirt, wearing only his blue vest and gray slacks. “Is this to your liking?”

 

Pacifica thought a few moments. Then she beamed. “I love it! It looks just like him! Let me know when it dries. I want to hang this up in my room as soon as possible!”

 

Northby sighed and wiped his forehead with his own embroidered handkerchief as Pacifica walked out, humming a love song.

 

XXX

 

“Lee, I really don’t think you should take up diplomacy as a second job,” Ford said. He and his brother were walking back to the Stan o’ War II, with the outskirts of Khura’in City behind them. “Sir Sahdmadhi was not pleased with all the English swear words you taught his sister.”

 

“How did you keep from strangling that holier than thou ass?” Stan asked sourly. “If he sat on a lump of coal and coughed hard enough, he’d spit out a diamond.”

 

“I just kept reminding myself that he’s an overworked and underpaid civil servant,” Ford replied. “Maybe next time you should let me do the talking.”

 

“Yeah, Ford. You still get tongue-tied. I wouldn’t even have gone off on him if His Holiness just thanked us for finding out what was eating all their crops...” Stan pointed out.

 

“He also could have declared us _persona non grata_ …” Ford said.

 

Stan snorted. “As if we’re ever going to come back to this place. And that princess! If she called me Tacky Medallion or you Six Fingers one more time, she’d be channeling herself next!”

 

“Could she?” Ford asked, thinking. “Isn’t it fascinating? How the royal women of this country can channel the souls of the dead? Maybe we could ask her to channel our father.”

 

“Like I ever want to see that prick again,” Stan said.

 

“I’m just saying a little bit of closure might help with the nightmares,” Ford said.

 

“Look, I dream more about Triangle Man than Dad at this point, and we’d never even consider bringing him back…”

 

“Bill was not human. Dad was. He made a mistake. I did, too,” Ford admitted. “And I’d like to tell him that you saved the world. And if he doesn’t like that, then I’d tell him to go back to hell.”

 

Stan laughed. “We don’t even believe in heaven or hell. And don’t say Weirdmageddon. That was hellish, but not quite lakes of fire…”

 

“Heeey!” yelled a voice from behind them.

 

Stan and Ford turned around to face Datz Arebal, local…rebel and prankster.

 

“What can we do for you, Mr. Arebal?” Ford asked. “You aren’t suffering side effects from the exorcism, I hope?”

 

“Um, I just got out of a meeting with Yuty,” Datz explained. “He billed me for all the stuff I ate while I was possessed by that hunger demon.” He held up a scroll and unfurled it. “It’s like half our GDP! I tried to get him to change his mind or let some of this stuff slide, but his sense of humor is completely gone.”

 

“We don’t have any money to loan you,” Stan said. “Sorry.”

 

“Oh, I wasn’t asking to borrow money,” Datz said. “You said you guys were exploring some caves in Mexico next? Could I ride with you on your ship? I could loan my services to some Central American guerillas and bumming a ride with you would save me the trouble of buying a plane ticket under a fake name. Believe it or not, I’m on several no-fly lists.” He frowned. “You bring a few firecrackers and then you’re banned for life. Never mind that it’s hilarious…”

 

“Fine, Datz,” Stan said with a sigh. “But don’t ask to do the steering!”

 

XXX

 

Tad Strange faced the adult female figure sitting across from him. She wore a futuristic black shiny chestplate that resembled armor over a long blue skirt. Her features were perfectly symmetrical.

 

The woman spoke, “I’ve found some specifics. I’m destined to die at the feet of a Pines born on August 31.”

 

“I take it you’re outraged that Gleeful lost, then?” Tad said acerbically.

 

“No,” Libra said. “It just proves the prophecy is true. There’s a little story that humans have told for centuries. That King Arthur knew the birthday of the one destined to overthrow him, and so he piled all the children with that birthday on a boat and sank it.”

 

“Yes,” Tad said. “Mordred was on that boat, but he was the sole survivor. The humans have a lot of stories like that. But why not just kill both the Pines twins now that their great-uncles are away? Surely you could get past Ramirez? After all, he’s not his father.”

 

“I loved his father,” Libra said. “And you speak as if it were that simple. If I tried, I would fail. And that’s just assuming the Pines destined to kill me hails from this universe. This is a very pluralistic cosmos. I’m…frightened, Strange. This didn’t come from some tenpenny seer. She’s always right…”

 

“I won’t let the Pines take you,” Tad replied. “If they come after you, they’ll need to go through me first. I’ve lost so much. I can’t lose you...”

 

XXX

 

In her hotel room, Athena sat on her bed with her bright yellow cell phone. “Hi, Simon. We made it to Olympia.”

 

“Was Wright-dono taking the scenic route?” Blackquill asked.

“We had a case, actually,” Athena explained. “And I happen to know you got a marriage proposal!”

 

“SILENCE!” roared Blackquill.

 

“No need to scream in my ear,” Athena said. “You shouldn’t be shy. You could get back into the dating scene…”

 

“Back into?” Blackquill repeated. “I don’t think I ever really was…”

 

“I can help you set up a dating profile for a dating site…” Athena suggested brightly.

 

“And put what, pray tell?” Blackquill asked. “Past murder conviction?”

 

“What you like,” Athena said. “Birds, Japanese stuff…”

 

“I doubt I’ll get any matches,” Blackquill said.

 

“What about ladies you know? Don’t you think Lisa Basil is cute?”

 

“I think she’s more my sister’s type…”

 

“OK, bad example. How about Maya Fey? Or how about Ema’s sister?”

 

“Athena, I am not having this conversation with you…” Blackquill’s voice was punctuated by a thudding sound, most likely him banging his head against a desk or the nearest wall.

 

“Come on, you have to admit you could stand to get laid…” Athena added.

 

“It might loosen you up,” Widget chirped.

 

 There was a clicking sound. “You hung up on me? That’s very mature, Simon.” Athena said to the empty room.

 

XXX

 

Phoenix and Trucy sat at a table at the Weeping Willow restaurant with Miles Edgeworth. They had just finished their meal. Edgeworth was drinking some tea, Trucy sipped some Perrier mineral water, and Phoenix indulged in some expensive grape juice.

 

“Do people ever think you’re odd, Uncle Miles?” Trucy asked. “That you drink tea?”

 

“I only occasionally get jokes about how I’m so pretentious that I can’t drink coffee like the American I am,” Edgeworth answered.

 

“I can’t drink coffee anymore myself,” Phoenix said. “Too many flashbacks of Godot throwing it in my face.”

 

“Let’s not discuss work, Wright,” Edgeworth said tersely.

 

“Oh, right, Godot’s still on your payroll,” Phoenix said. “Does he throw coffee at you?”

 

“Worse,” Edgeworth said. “At Sebastian Debeste, which inevitably ends in tears.”

 

“That funny little prosecutor who always cries?” Trucy asked. “That one?”

 

“Yes,” Edgeworth said.

 

“Oh, I need to get a copy of his book,” Phoenix said. “I have to send it to someone I met on my last case.”

 

“Yes, you mentioned that you missed my panel because of a case,” Edgeworth said, stirring sugar into his tea. “Does it bother you that you seem to run into a murder anywhere you go? Khura’in, the mountains, some little town in the middle of nowhere?”

 

“Are you saying Daddy is some sort of murder jinx?” Trucy asked. “But I got accused of murder when he went away.”

 

“I think Apollo’s more of a murder jinx,” Phoenix said. “Ga’ran Khura’in tried to murder him when he was a baby, and if anything, his life got worse from there. His father died, and his adopted father sent him to live with his uncle, his first boss turned out to be an insane madman, his best friend was killed…”

 

“Poor Polly,” Trucy said. “I called him last week, but he says he’s swamped with work.”

 

“Yeah,” Phoenix said. “He could have presented a paper on our panel about neurodivergence in court cases. Athena’s going to talk about Uendo Toneido’s multiple personalities, I’m going to discuss psychosis in defendants throughout my career…”

 

“So how was your detour case?” Edgeworth asked.

 

“You wouldn’t really believe any of it,” Phoenix said.

 

“You say that with all of the strangeness that surrounds you and me?” Edgeworth asked. “The dead being channeled, you being impersonated by an always-irate loan shark, that you didn’t realize you were actually dating your girlfriend’s twin, the antics of the Butz? Oh, and Jean Armstrong?”

 

“Even beyond that wannabe chef,” Phoenix said. “I feel like two roads diverged, and I took the one less traveled by. I landed in a little town in a remote county in Oregon called Roadkill County called Gravity Falls. It’s one of those places where nothing seems to be real, and years from now I’ll probably think it was all some sort of fevered dream. But I took that road seldom taken, and that has made all the difference.”

 

The waiter passed the table, setting the check down.

 

“Your turn to pay, Wright,” Edgeworth said.

 

Phoenix’s opened his wallet. A moth flew out. “I guess I know what to say here…”

 

“Ooh, I love this part,” Trucy said.

 

Edgeworth sighed. “Go ahead.”

 

“OBJECTION!”

 

Fin

 

I’m going to do a bonus chapter featuring scenes that took place before and during the story.

 

As promised, the pun index:

Rona Round: “Run around.”

Northby Northwest: After the Alfred Hitchcock movie.

Colby Roquefort: Not a pun per se, but he is named after two types of cheese. His original name was Count Rochefort, after the spy in Three Musketeers.

_Phoenix: He has a title?_

_Wendy: No, Count is his first name._

Melby Determined, Toby’s father. The “by” part of his name sounds like B, for MBD which is journalistic slang for “Man bites dog,” after the adage, “Dog bites man is not news, but man bites dog _is_ news.” This is in parallel to Toby’s name being a pun on To Be Determined.

I think Dipper would love _Arrested Development_ ( _Stunted Growth_ ) so his clones would be no different.

 

It’s also my headcanon that Sebastian Debeste did indeed write a book called _When Your Dad is a Prick_ and Franziska wrote the foreword. I can’t recall offhand if I’ve put a reference to it in my other Ace Attorney works yet.

 

I really wanted to do the scene with the older Pines twins with Nahyuta and Rayfa, but I wanted to keep this down to a T rating and Stan would describe his distaste for Nahyuta with color and flair, using tons of words that the censors would not let me share. As Ford said, Rayfa learned quite a few swear words in English. Disney themselves had to think of clever ways around Stan’s mouth, such as “What the H?!” and “I’m alone, I can swear for real! SON OF A…” Well, Stan is kind of a sailor now.

 

Originally, Libra’s poem included a jab at Ford for being the one who summoned Bill Cipher but I deleted it for being too oblique:

_Whose tomorrow was made_

_In cold-hearted trade?_

_Hail Ford Pines, the new antichrist_

_Mason, I give you a toast_

_Hail, Pines. Hail, Northwests._

_Who stinketh the most?_

 

 

Thank you, to everyone who enjoyed the story and thanks to all who reviewed. I hope I managed to do justice to both universes. If there are any particular characters or scenarios you’d like to see in the bonus scenes, please let me know.


	9. Bonus vignettes

Welcome to the bonus chapter of “Turnabout in Gravity Falls.” Here are some extra scenes that took place before and during the narrative, with some trivia/deleted scenes at the end. 

XXX

Time: After “Northwest Mansion Mystery”   
Place: Trembley Home

Preston entered the visitor’s room, where Northby was strapped down to a stretcher. His wrists and ankles were held down by leather straps as well. He quickly turned off the surveillance camera in the corner before turning to his son. 

“Do you remember the conditions for lifting the Lumberjack’s Curse?” Preston asked. 

“A Northwest has to open the gates to the townsfolk on the 150th anniversary of the first Northwest Fest,” Northby said. “You’re still alive, so I assume you exorcised the ghost…” 

“Who qualifies?” Preston asked. 

“You, of course, and myself and Pacifica, but I don’t see…” Northby stopped. “Wait. You would never open the gates, so…” 

“Yes, your sister opened the gates and let that riffraff roam free!” Preston said. “And it’s all your fault!” 

“How is it my fault?” Northby asked. He’d facepalm, were the leather restraints not holding his wrists down. 

“You were a bad influence on her!” Preston roared. 

Northby frowned. “How could I have been a bad influence?! I haven’t seen her in three years!” 

“You planned this,” Preston snapped. “Three years ago. You’ve been plotting against the Northwest Fest from the start! You knew I’d get rid of you because you would be willing to open the gates, so somehow you tricked your sister into opening the gates.” 

“How do you know she didn’t choose to open the gates of her own will?” Northby retorted. “Maybe she’s finally finding the courage to stand up to you.” 

“She would never hurt me like that,” Preston said. “She loves me.” 

“No, you intimidate her into obeying your every whim. It’s not love. It’s coercion,” Northby said. 

“And why can’t you follow her example?” Preston asked. “I know clay pots need to be fired as well as shaped to burn out any impurities, but you’ve resisted any attempt to make you just like me.” 

“I don’t want to be like you,” Northby said quietly. 

“You just don’t comprehend the glorious privilege that comes with being born a Northwest,” Preston said. “Why do you think I sent you here?” 

“To get me to accept your twisted way of thinking,” Northby answered. “To gaslight me, isolate me, and break down my resistance.” 

“I wish it was working,” Preston said, opening his briefcase. He pulled back a tab on the briefcase’s backing, revealing a hidden pocket. He took out a lighter and a small pack of sewing needles. “I see I need some more fire to burn out your impurities.” 

Northby thrashed against the bonds. “No, please. I haven’t done anything. Don’t do this!” 

Preston flicked open the lighter and passed one of the needles into the flame until the tip was red hot. He then guided the hot needle under the fingernail on Northby’s right index finger. 

Twenty minutes later, the door unlocked. Preston stepped out, whistling gaily. “I’m done with my visit,” Preston said to the asylum director. 

The director entered the room. “Are you all right?” 

“Please take me back to my room,” Northby said quietly. 

“Do you want to talk about the visit?” The director asked. 

“No, I want to go back to my room!” Northby screamed. “Was I not clear?!” 

The director sighed and unbuckled the leather straps, then led the sullen Northby to his room. He curled up on his bed and began to cry. 

The director left, shutting the door behind him. 

Ten minutes later, the door swung open, revealing one of the Trembley Home’s other juvenile patients, Poppy Cox. She wore a brightly colored flowered dress with short sleeves. Healed scars were visible on both wrists, indicating at least one previous suicide attempt. 

Northby turned and glared at her. "I hope you realize it is unforgiveable to enter someone's room without their permission." 

"Look, Northby," Poppy answered. "Every time your father visits, you hide in your room for three days or more and don't talk to anyone. You don't even eat. Doesn't take a shrink to realize something's very wrong. And it's not good to hold it in." 

Northby turned away from her, hugging his pillow to himself. "I do not wish to discuss it." 

"Yeah, that's your standard answer," Poppy said, grimacing. "But every time your father comes, you're back to Square One in your treatment." 

"I don't need treatment," Northby retorted. "My father threw me in here just to dominate me." 

"And why don't you show any anger about that? I hate living here, and I actually belong here." Her tone on the last part was overly cheerful. 

"The last time I showed my anger, I was strapped down and got a shot of Ativan to my thigh for my trouble," Northby said through gritted teeth. "It's no use resisting, so..."

XXX

Time: Chapter 4, just after Mabel hung up on the phone call with Stan and Ford  
Place: Khura’in Orchard

“What?” Stan asked as Ford put away the cell phone. “I only promised their parents I wouldn’t swear in front of them over the summer. Summer’s over.” 

Ford sighed. “You’re missing the point. Why did she need holy water? Maybe we should go back to Gravity Falls…” 

“We could, but whatever’s been eating all the food is going to keep doing it,” Stan said. “The fields are bare. We’d be leaving a whole country to starve. As much as I’d like to run back and protect the kids, I have to trust Soos and Wendy.” 

“You’re right,” Ford said. “We can’t let innocent people suffer any more than they have.” 

Stan stood up from where he had been sitting against one of the trees. “I’m going to check out the perimeter again.” Suddenly, he let out a yell and ducked as a blade flew past his head and embedded itself in the trunk of a nearby tree. 

“This thing just threw a knife at my head!” Stan complained, jumping on a dark, hunched-over figure and trying to hold it down. He was not quite successful, the figure trying to buck him off like a bull at a rodeo. 

Ford glanced back at the bladed weapon sticking out of the tree. “It’s a kukri, if you want to get technical.” 

“I don’t want to get technical!” Stan yelled. “This thing is throwing pointy things at me, and I don’t like it!”

Ford took out a demon-dispelling charm and ran toward Stan and the mysterious being. “I’m coming!” 

XXX

Time: During Chapter 5  
Place: Gideon’s office

“So what would you say if I could testify against Dipper Pines? Swear that he was the one who murdered Toby while I distracted Mabel at the Mystery Shack?” 

“Using a clone to establish an alibi,” Gideon said. “Ha. Dipper Pines thought he could get away with such a cheap trick. You can’t fool me, Pines! I’m the one who fools! But to answer your question, Tricky…” 

“Tracey,” Tracey corrected. 

“Whatever,” Gideon replied dismissively. “I’d say, what’s in it for you? He’s your creator. Why do you want him imprisoned and executed?” 

“I hate him,” Tracey answered. “He went back to Piedmont. Abandoned me and my brother. No, forgot us. After he casually murdered our clone brethren. I trusted him, believed in him…” 

“So you want him executed, disgraced, and then swoop in and steal his life?” Gideon asked. “That’s so cruel, so sneaky, so devious, so dirty and unhanded!” He thought a moment. “If you take Dipper’s place, would you object to me dating Mabel? For instance, if I did win her heart by beating her brother honestly and not forcing her in any way?” 

“If I say no, will you agree to my terms?” Tracey asked, barely managing to disguise an eye roll. 

“Yes,” Gideon said. 

“Fine,” Tracey said, sticking out his hand. “Do we have a deal?” 

XXX

Time: During Chapter 5, when everyone split up  
Place: Gravity Falls Morgue

Candy knocked on the door. 

The door opened, and Dr. Membrillo peeked out. “Ugh, go away, Candy. I’ve told you already: children do not belong in the morgue unless they’re no longer breathing!” 

“Please, Doctor,” Candy begged. “There must be something you’ve found.” 

“If I say yes, will you stop making up false stories about how your biology teacher offered you extra credit to sit in on an autopsy?” Dr. Membrillo asked. 

Candy sighed. “Yes, Doctor.” 

Dr. Membrillo handed her a flash drive. “See that the defense gets these. My imaging software finally outputted these high-resolution three-dimensional images of the murder weapon. The finger span of the smudged prints is rather large, too large for Dipper Pines’ tiny hands.” 

“So this proves Dipper didn’t do it? Score!” Grenda cried. 

“It doesn’t prove anything except someone with larger hands handled this rock at some point,” Dr. Membrillo said. “Be careful, young ladies. Neither dread, nor hope awaits a dying animal, but people await their end, dreading and hoping all.” With that, he slammed the door in their faces. 

“…That man could depress a hyena,” Grenda observed. 

XXX

Time: The day after the trial.   
Place: The Mystery Shack

“I can’t believe you let Northby sleep in my bed,” Dipper complained. 

“What was wrong with it?” Mabel asked. 

“My pillow and sheets smell like cinnamon and lemon!” 

“He wanted to take a shower, so I let him use some of my shampoo and soap…” Mabel explained. “Poor thing was so embarrassed about hiding out for three days without bathing. He still smelled better than you on any given day.” 

 

XXX

Time: The day after the trial  
Place: The abandoned Dusk 2 Dawn

“One thing still bothers me,” Quattro said. “When you testified, you kept making mistakes.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Tracey replied dully. 

“I didn’t get a good look at the body,” Quattro began. “I had to run to the emergency phone to call the police and make the fake confession. But you were working at the scene. Why didn’t you know Toby had been bashed on the side of his head rather than behind?” 

“I…I just couldn’t look at his head,” Tracey said, eyes downcast. “It was Toby! It felt like only yesterday that I was accusing him of murder. The time I…you…we were Dipper Classic. I made the fake dying message, hoping someone would notice it was with the wrong hand. I knew if I looked at that horrible sight, I would collapse or throw up. So I turned my eyes away.”

“It was too late,” Quattro said. 

“For us to do anything about it when we woke up,” Tracey said. “But there was no reason Toby had to die. I wish I could let it go, but I can’t. Dipper’s sense of justice…my sense of justice won’t stand for it. We aren’t innocent, Quattro, but there are others who have to atone for far more than us.” 

XXX

Time: A few days after the trial, 5 PM  
Place: The Mystery Shack

Mabel answered the door. She smiled. “Northby?” 

Northby was standing on the porch, wearing a white collared shirt, brown plaid shorts, dark highsocks, his black loafers, a cream-colored ascot, and an olive green jacket. The ascot was pinned in place with a brooch featuring the North Star in colorless stones. “Do you like my new clothes? Pacifica picked them out for me.” 

“You look very charming,” Mabel said. “What are you doing here?” 

Northby was holding the loaner sweater and Dipper’s loaned-out pants in his right hand. He held them toward her. “I wanted to return these after I washed them. And thank you once again. You went to a lot of trouble for me and you didn’t know who I was.” 

“But you told me your name,” Mabel replied. 

“There was no proof I was who I said I was,” Northby answered. “Pacifica never described me to you. My father made sure no recent photographs surfaced on the internet. I lost my ring.” 

Mabel gazed at Northby’s empty left hand. “I’ll get you a ring to replace it. It won’t be as expensive, but I’ll find a perfect one.” 

“Mabel, I’m flattered,” Northby said. “But you’re making a mistake.” 

“What mistake?” Mabel asked. “I like you!” 

“I like you too, Mabel,” Northby said. “But I’m not so socially ignorant that I don’t know the significance of a lady offering a promise ring. You’re a kind, considerate person and you deserve to be with someone who can make you happy. I’m not that person.” 

Mabel threw her arms around him, making him drop the clothes. “Never underestimate my power.” 

“The power of love?” Northby asked, confused. 

“The power of Mabel,” Mabel replied. 

XXX

Deleted scenes:   
Trucy is a yaoi fangirl, so I wanted her to share some yaoi manga with the girls. Phoenix naturally walks in on them. 

Trucy: Daddy, this isn’t what it looks like! Unless it looks like I’m corrupting innocent girls with my extensive yaoi collection, in which case it’s exactly what it looks like. (gives her impish expression)   
Phoenix: (picks up some hand-drawn yaoi and looks through it) Trucy, this is…shockingly anatomically correct. I’ll just…take this. (Yaoi manga added to Court Record)

That Trucy has seen age-inappropriate material did make it into the final story, when she mentions that the Gremlobin eating Gorney was “way tamer than half the stuff on Sport of Crowns.” And Phoenix doesn’t allow her to watch HBO, but she can bypass the Parental Controls on the DVR. 

Archibald Corduroy would appear during the trial, and Preston would get annoyed: “My daughter fulfilled your wish. What more do you want from me, you blasted phantasm?!” But I figured he was at peace, so he should stay that way. 

Originally, Dipper and Roquefort had a conversation about Wendy, but there was no good opportunity for it. Nor did I have time to indicate Roquefort’s interest in Wendy.   
Roquefort: What will happen if you date Pacifica Northwest? You’ll really impress her parents when you eat salad with the wrong fork.   
Dipper: What, you’d think you’d be a better match for her?   
Roquefort: Perish the thought. I don’t have such expensive tastes. (gazes too long in Wendy’s direction)   
Dipper: You like Wendy?   
Roquefort: No! (Dipper gives him a look) Fine, yes. Can you blame me?   
Dipper: (after a moment) No, not really. 

Trivia: 

Preston was always going to be the murderer, but originally the victim was Mr. Poolcheck. Northby was immediately created and named, but he was possessed – though not by Bill. The possession idea was eliminated, but not before an idea that Mabel decides to drive out the demon the same way she got Bill to vacate Dipper’s body. Unfortunately, Northby is not ticklish. She would then kiss Northby, and the demon would flee: “Ewww, mortal cooties!”

Epilepsy used to be seen as a sign of demonic possession, and in later drafts, Northby was not possessed but had epilepsy. So instead of genuine possession, it was just Sprott screaming that he was possessed. When Phoenix asks him about the night of the murder, Northby would have a seizure, as the medications at the asylum were administered daily rather than letting the patients keep them. Phoenix and Athena then go to Dr. Membrillo and claim Athena has epilepsy but lost her medicine bottle. Membrillo is suspicious but gives them the medication. They pass it to Northby and decide to hold off on questioning him about the murder until the medicine has had time to take effect. The epilepsy was phased out because his storyarc was depressing enough. 

Preston originally told Pacifica that Northby was dead to explain Pacifica’s paralyzing fear in “Northwest Mansion Mystery.” But then that was too depressing, so Preston told her that Northby was at a strict boarding school. 

Xavier Lesenfants’ name isn’t quite a pun, but it does mean “Castle of the silent.” The connotation was “Savior of the silent.” Enfants also means child in French.

Though not mentioned in the narrative, Nathaniel Northwest’s son was named Vernon, which means alder. Alder trees are common in the Pacific Northwest. There’s a superstition in Ireland that it’s bad luck to cut down alder trees, because an angry spirit would seek vengeance and burn down houses. The sap is red-orange, and tends to dye the whitish wood red. The alder is linked with death and resurrection as well as courage. I thought the death/rebirth angle complimented the pine, which symbolizes immortality. 

Northby and Pacifica were placed in two separate surrogates and born a week apart. Northby was born on May 10, Pacifica on May 17. 

Northby’s namesake, the North Star, is in Ursa Minor. The Big Dipper is in Ursa Major. 

In my Ace Attorney storyline, Blackquill’s family is quite distinguished. Blackquill and Pacifica? The mind boggles. But Blackquill was also born in 1999, like Pacifica and the younger Pines twins in the original timeline. In my story, “Poros,” the Blackquills own a supernaturally powered diamond called the Venusian Diamond that can grant a single wish if you hold it when Venus is brightest in the night sky. So, yeah, Preston was hoping to use Pacifica’s engagement to Blackquill to get his mitts on that diamond. Good thing Blackquill didn’t bite, huh?


End file.
